But Trailing Clouds of Glory, Do We Come
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: A mission that ends in disaster sends McKay searching for a way to do the impossible. This is a quantum mirror AU verse. Please read the AN as this was written as a preslash story.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is a story I wrote just about a year ago. It remains one of my favorites. This story is **pre-slash**, McKay and Sheppard, but it's more along the lines of a consideration during events about taking chances for what might be in relationships – if you can tolerate the concept of slash, you should be able to read this story without having issues. I considered editing to create a gen version, but in the end decided against it, as the 'what if' theme was the driving force behind the emotion in this story and to change that would do it a disservice.

Also, a final note. As you begin reading, you may panic with events. I'm begging a favor and asking readers to trust me and go into this story without reading warnings. If you feel you absolutely must know, they will be posted at the end of the story, so once the chapters are all up (will be same day), select the final chapter and scroll to the very bottom. There are times when a writer takes twists and turns and wishes them to come as a shock to the reader, because there are moments where something happens that you might not have predicted and it's that moment of "OMG!" that the writer wants you to feel. I know this is a long note, but if you can at all chance going into this without reading the warnings, I'm pleading that you do. I do not feel there is any seriously disturbing content. There is no sexual situations, non-con, or anything of that nature.

Thanks to my betas ankayoh, vonknibble and linzi! And again, this story is complete, I'm separating it into chapters due to length and posting them.

* * *

**But trailing clouds of glory, do we come**

-William Wordsworth

"Run!" I shouted, waving madly at Ronon and Teyla. Both lay down covering fire, each taking a side of the sloping corridor in an attempt to keep it clear of the Replicators so that we could make our escape. I heard the gunfire chasing me up the hall, and ran harder than I'd ever ran before, bursting into sunlight. Even as I pumped my legs toward the Jumper, my steps faltered. I looked back, suddenly knowing he wasn't there. I stopped so abruptly Teyla and Ronon almost tripped over me. I turned back towards the building, shoved the device in Teyla's hand. "When they send a rescue team, tell Elizabeth that's the weapon we needed."

The radio cackled and spit. "Ron...on't …let …Kay come bac..!" I locked eyes with Ronon even as Sheppard finished.

"Don't even think about it," I swore, lunging to go past him. It wasn't that I was brave, I was incensed. He'd tricked me, said we'd run on three. We'd both decided to risk the mechanical bugs finding a way to turn off the bomb. We'd _both_ decided.

Ronon looked vaguely sorry, but he cold cocked me nonetheless.

I fell boneless to the broken pavement of the abandoned city and felt him picking me up, slinging me over his shoulder like a massive sack of human potatoes. I heard Teyla asking urgently, "Should we not go back for John?"

"He isn't coming back," Ronon answered roughly. "Now _run_."

I was jarred hard against his shoulder and felt nausea well up. I blanked out and only the terrible concussion throwing us to the ground brought me around. I lay on my back, stared at the blue, deep blue sky.

The only thought I could process was that I'd lost. I'd _lost_.

OoO

How many cups of coffee? How many sleepless nights?

"I found it," I gloated to the people sitting, watching. I stood off to the side of the large display screen, and I was gloating because that was what I did. I found answers to impossible situations, and I'd done it again. "According to the databanks, there is a quantum mirror here." I pointed to the south pier, where we'd run into more dangerous things than I wanted to remember. "Using that, I can find a reality where Sheppard is dying, rescue him, and poof, our problems are solved. We can nurse him back to health, and he can deploy the weapon."

I waited patiently for the chorus of "wonderful, Rodney", and really, it seemed fairly straight forward and obvious to me. This was the answer we'd needed, the one I'd gotten permission to look for, but now that I'd delivered, Lorne merely exchanged a skeptical look with Elizabeth and Carson went straight for the jugular. "I realize I haven't spoken up yet about my doubts, but don't you think this is just a wee bit dangerous?" He frowned at the display and the concept. "This is a man's life we're talking about. You can't be playing chess pieces with alternate realities."

Exasperated, I bobbed my head and reminded Carson, "He'll be dying." What difference would it make in a reality where he would've been dead anyway? The absence of a corpse wouldn't change much.

"Rodney," Elizabeth warned. "You know Carson wasn't talking only about the reality we pull him from, but also this one." She leaned over the table, her arms bent at the elbows, hands clasped. "What are your theories about the ramifications to _this_ time line?"

"None."

Lorne's skepticism twisted into disbelief. "How is that possible?"

I sighed. It was like explaining that Earth wasn't even the center of our galaxy, let alone the universe, to Ptolemy. "To alter the time line, you have to interfere in past or future events, not current. What we're doing is in the present. No time travel involved, therefore, we are not altering any _time _line."

"I don't care what you claim, you're altering something, Rodney, because Colonel Sheppard died in our reality, and you'll be essentially replacing him with another. That's got to have some ramifications!"

Of course I was altering _something_. That went without saying. God, my headache seemed to be spreading outward like an accretion disk of a singularity, sucking energy and light inward to keep feeding itself. It should be against the law for any part of the body to hurt to this degree, but I'd spent the last two weeks defending my theory, and at this stage, I wanted all the smaller people to shut up and let me do my job.

"What's it going to change?" I challenged. "That we win?" It sounded so much like something Sheppard would've said, arguing alongside me, that I had to fight against a sudden wave of bitterness that threatened to overtake me.

"That would be one possibility, yes," Elizabeth conceded. "Rodney, we all know that without John to use the weapon, the Asurans will win. If he's here to use it, hopefully _we_ win. That significantly alters events in our reality."

Before she finished, I was all ready shaking my head. "No, you don't get it. You're thinking only in the x, y and z." I brought up a graphic I'd prepared and stared at them for a beat and admitted irritably, "That really shouldn't surprise me." On the display was a grid filled with green lines, and peppered on it were a multitude of red dots. "Pick one," I told Elizabeth.

She paused, but I stared at her with a "what are you waiting for" look until she got up, picked one in the upper right corner and put her finger on it.

"Good," I said, pleased. "Look." After she'd touched, I pushed a button, and a multitude of other red dots began appearing. "When you placed your finger, we rescued a Sheppard and replaced the one we lost. All the new red dots are realities that spring up from that 'fork in the road' – don't you get it? For every decision, every choice made, theory dictates that a reality exists for the opposite outcome, the other decision not made. We are merely following one possibility. _Another_ reality will make the other choice, and in that reality, we _will_ lose." I waited till she returned to her seat and then I faced Lorne, Elizabeth and Carson before asking sharply, "Which fork do you wish to live?"

OoO

As I set up the control device on the quantum mirror, I considered again how difficult this was going to be. When I'd been focusing on the proposal, and then locating the mirror, I'd had something concrete to look at, but this was going into an area that seemed a lot less certain, and I disliked, on principle, vagueness. Would this take a day, a week…months? And horribly enough, I knew at the same time that we didn't have months. We needed to find a Sheppard that was on death's door enough to ethically remove him from his reality. Therefore, he needed to be clinically dead, or moments away from it, with no hope of revival. Drowning, freezing, fed upon…well, I'd really prefer we not go _there_.

Seeing how we'd almost drowned in _this_ reality, saved by the last minute, damn near miraculous, return of Sheppard, along with the Athosians and a ZPM, I imagined a city floating on a massive body of water would give us our best possibility -- drowning.

But we would still need either fate, God, or ascended Ancients interfering – _please –_ to help us get lucky. We needed to locate one mostly dead, but still viable, Sheppard. In days, weeks at the most, because months would be too long, and if we didn't do that, we might as well just update our wills and rig what Sheppard termed a mercy charge -- nice pretty wrapping, minus the ribbon, for suicide. Myself, I preferred the narcotic nudge.

It was hard enough just having had to live the last month.

The trip to the pier had been simple enough because transporters just made our lives that much easier -- the hard part would come in coordinating the rescue. To find a Sheppard on the other side of this mirror, a certain set of parameters would have to be met. First, that he'd be in Atlantis, along with the other mirror; two and most problematic, that he'd be _dying,_ and we'd have to find him in time to rescue a still viable body. The odds of meeting that last clause were making me refuse to do the math.

Elizabeth wouldn't consider abducting a Sheppard that was anything less than clinically dead or dying (with no hope of rescue or revival in the alternate reality). I reluctantly had to agree, because one, we didn't know when the Asurans would come for us, we just knew that it would be soon, so snatching a live Sheppard without a set timetable for his return to _his_ reality probably wouldn't go over well, but also two, Sheppard had a life in the other realities and to take him from that, even if we managed to quickly return him safe and sound after the threat here was over, the impact on the other reality might be catastrophic. We might take him during a critical junction, and change everything.

So, I took what I could get and only reminded her every now and then that I wasn't likely to succeed with such limitations. I didn't want any false hope on my shoulders. She'd merely replied, "Why, Rodney, I thought you were a genius?"

As for the math, it didn't matter what I had or had not done, because Radek had done it for me, and then shoved it under my nose with a Czech curse.

The Mirror Team consisted of myself, Teyla, Ronon, and Carson. Elizabeth had tried to argue the need for me to stay, but I'd held up the control device and said, "ET must phone home, remember – if I'm not there, they will most likely spend the rest of their lives hopping through alternate realities looking for us."

Now, I set the control device to scan and began searching. The first six realities revealed people we didn't recognize and some we did – Genii, Asurans, even _Naasians, _and they weren't wearing the tell tale animal skins in that reality, but they still had the familiar crested nose and ridged necks that gave away their identity -- and then there were the two realities where we saw wraith staring back at us. I switched to the next reality faster than I thought my reflexes could allow. We had the wraith subdued here, and it would be nice to _not_ be responsible for a new invasion. One evil enemy to conquer at a time, thank you.

"Bloody hell," Carson swore after the last one. He stepped back a couple of meters and wiped at his forehead. "Is there still time to say I think this is an incredibly bad idea?"

"You can say it," Ronon offered gruffly.

Teyla added, "But we will still proceed."

I sent a brief smile her way, before turning back to the device. In the argument about going ahead with this, well, in fairness, less than ideal plan – even I would admit, to myself, that in ordinary circumstances (which this wasn't), it was fairly insane – Teyla had not only stood by me, but supported it. I was oddly pleased and touched in places I'd…really rather not examine. Suffice to say, I'd thought Teyla would be completely against it and tell me what I was proposing was wrong, insisting if we could not find another way, then we would celebrate the time we had left.

Her people had very strong ideals on dying and death and after Sheppard had died, she'd returned to the mainland and mourned for one week, while Ronon isolated himself in the gym, and me…I walked around Atlantis in a daze thinking something had just gone terribly _wrong_.

Even now there were still moments when I was alone in my quarters that I let myself feel the full depth of his loss. The things I never said or did. And it was then that I swore there'd better be some form of afterlife where I could tell him just how unfair it was for him to die and leave me with regrets. I'd never had a _real_ regret before in my life and I found the entire experience grossly uncomfortable.

I'd blustered through school, college, and even into the military machine as a civilian GS employee, with far more assurance than anyone should have had, and then -- then I'd pulled up short after forming some kind of attachment to Sheppard, avoiding waltzing blithely into the one thing that probably meant the most to me, because the friendship alone felt incredible enough that I couldn't risk it. I'd told myself that if I died, I'd be happy with what I had. It wasn't until _he_ had died that I realized it hadn't been enough, I wasn't happy. I didn't have the _more_ of _what could've been_ because I'd been such a social coward.

Of course, by then it was too late, the opportunity was gone, and _I_ should've known better. You can never go back. Well, not without time travel or quantum mirrors. The former had annoying rules. And while maybe I could've pushed the limit of those rules _without_ the universe smacking me down – a hastily scribbled note left to be found, a well-timed whisper –we lacked the necessary time machine to do it. As for the latter, I suppose if all went according to plan -- I know, optimism, which really wasn't like me -- but anyway, if this worked out, I'd have a shadow of that second chance, but it still wouldn't really be _my_ Sheppard, now would it?

The next three realities met my parameters wherein we didn't see any sign of any occupants other than Earth-based expedition members, and we actually traveled through the mirror to scout. One had life signs, and we quickly realized it _was,_ in fact, our counterparts. We lurked around and overheard all we needed to know. The Sheppard in this reality had died two weeks ago, and so did their version of me, Ronon and Teyla.

We snuck back to the mirror and thankfully escaped without being seen. The next had an empty city and before we left, I set it to power back into sleep mode, on the off chance that the expedition was merely delayed on Earth in this reality. The third was harder. People were around and we tried to act casual when we were seen. No one reacted badly, so we pushed on, remembering that to everyone here, we belonged.

Outside of the mess hall, we ran into Sheppard.

He narrowed his eyes at us in confusion. "When'd you get back?"

"Ummm, just a few minutes ago." I tried to pick a random response that would make sense and then tried to act like I believed it.

Sheppard's face brightened and he slapped me on the back. "Great, look, I found something when you were gone and you've got to see it. Remember that shield device you thought was going to kill you?"

I nodded numbly. This was some version of hell. My personal hell. Because I wanted to _stay_. I wanted to go see whatever it was that he'd found, and get lost in the thrill of discovery with him again.

Carson intercepted when I didn't speak up fast enough with an excuse to vanish, "Colonel, I've got to borrow Rodney for a moment – his post mission physical."

"Colonel?"

Shit.

"Major," smiled Carson tightly. "Sorry, I had Colonel on my mind after talking to Rodney about another man I knew back on Antarctica."

He seemed to accept it, but some of the eagerness had dissipated. "Call me when you're done," Sheppard said with another slap on my arm. "It scrambles life signs on the sensors. Very cool." Then he headed back the way he'd been going when our paths had crossed.

After we made it back to the mirror, and back on our Atlantis, I collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor. Teyla and Ronon knelt beside me, and Carson covered his face in his hands.

We stayed liked that for too long.

"Crap," I finally croaked. "How can I be sarcastic after _that_?"

"You'll find a way," Carson murmured. "You always do."

The rest of the day was a waste. We found realities where Atlantis was flooded, and a couple we ventured into only to find an exclusively civilian expedition and no Sheppard at all, or once, we found a military expedition led by Sumner, and it was only through lurking, dodging, and hacking into a computer in an empty room where I found out their Sheppard had died, along with Ford, in a mission to Athos, along with all the natives on the world; everyone taken in a massive culling by the wraith.

We found a reality where the Ancients still lived in their city. I wanted to travel through, ask questions we needed answers to, but Carson called Elizabeth and tattled. Lorne arrived after that to _observe_.

Wasted opportunities.

Late into the evening, and with a growing pile of powerbar wrappers to show for our useless day, I powered off the mirror and we left, tired and physically worn out, to get some rest. I would've kept on through the night if it weren't for the drooping faces on Teyla and Carson. Ronon suggested we do just that, but Carson pulled his CMO power from his pocket, and ordered us to get some rest before starting fresh in the morning. .

Over coffee the next morning, Carson lectured me, "I can't see how you expected it to go any faster, Rodney. The odds --"

"I know the odds, Carson, but I fail to see how we are going to accomplish what we need to do if we stop to sleep according to unrealistic bodily demands. That's what stimulants are for." I took another gulp of the crappy mess hall canned coffee, and almost burnt my throat. "Let me put it in terms you _can_ understand – we'll get all the sleep we need when the Asurans arrive and we don't have a Sheppard to use the weapon."

He shot a dirty look across the table and speared his sausage.

Less than an hour later, we were back in front of the mirror and I was scrolling again. Empty, empty, flooded, woah…was that…?

"Iratus bugs?" Carson leaned closer, then pulled back, his lips twisted in the same disgust I felt.

I flipped to the next reality. Empty, empty – that was getting a little depressing – then finally, a reality where I recognized crates from Earth. We got prepared to go, and when Teyla and Ronon were ready, we went through. We wound up an hour later, back in our reality, breathing hard.

"Well, that wasn't so bad." I tried to act nonchalant as I pushed a hand against the painful stitch in my side.

Ronon looked over from where he was hunched, his hands braced against his thighs. "We were almost killed," he panted.

"Bloody hell," breathed Carson.

Teyla nodded solemnly. "I did not know the colonel could run that fast."

I exhaled, trying to slow the rapid thumping in my chest. "Only when he thinks something is threatening." And because the Sheppard in that reality hadn't known Teyla or Ronon, he'd wanted to take us down first and ask questions later. Shit.

We ate some more powerbars, drank some water, then I started scrolling again, ignoring the muttered jibe from Ronon to try and find something that _wouldn't_ get us captured, stunned, or running for our lives.

Lorne and a couple scientists showed up an hour later, curious this time. I discarded another five realities before finding another that looked promising. The city was powered up, the room empty, and I thought I could make out some Earth supplies tucked off to the side of an exposed hallway.

When we walked through those halls minutes later, we found shriveled, desiccated, drained corpses. Though there weren't any life signs, a sick fascination seemed to drive us forward, no one suggesting we should leave.

I found Lorne's body not far from the mirror room, then Kavanagh's and Caldwell's…Miko and Radek. The only way we knew who they were was by checking dog tags. We found a few bodies with names I didn't recognize. After that, we stopped looking at the names. I went to a computer and brought up the list of expedition members and found that Sheppard was on it, as I was, though Carson wasn't. Ronon was added at the end, but Teyla wasn't anywhere on the list.

"Maybe --" Teyla began.

"If he's here, he's beyond our help," I interrupted angrily.

From the last recorded data entered, the attack had begun seven days ago. Three Hive ships and a battle that lasted four days until the ZPM was drained and there wasn't any option left. Not everyone had been able to escape, or wanted to. A fair amount of personnel had chosen to stay behind to limit the power drain on the ZPM caused by opening a wormhole to Earth.

I sighed in disgust as I stared at another dead body wearing what I thought was a science uniform, if the colored panels were the same in this reality. "Lot of good it did you," I snapped at the body. The infinitesimally small difference it would've made in the power capacity...there'd been no need for so many to die, but I knew it hadn't been about power at all. It'd been about not wanting to leave your friends. "Stupid sentimentalism --"

"Rodney?" Teyla was standing uneasily in the hall to my right, her P90 pointed into the distance, hair softly lying against her shoulders. This could've been us, except for different choices made, different forks.

"This is what caring gets you," I said harshly, nudging a corpse with my toe.

Ronon was the one that surprised me by speaking up, his voice gruff. "At least they had someone to die for. Someone they cared enough to die with."

I stared at him, reminded of his world, his life as a runner. Eventually, we broke eye contact, though I have no idea who was first. We walked back to the mirror and I pulled up our reality as quickly as I could, and then we were back home, Lorne waiting to get a report. Instead, I just shook my head.

We spent another week going through similar versions of the first two days.

The days passed like the ones before, unsuccessful; soon, we were on day ten, and I'd already found an Atlantis populated by Ancients – again – and a city of aliens that I didn't recognize. Not Ancients, wraith, Asgard…I wondered if they were a new enemy we hadn't found or if they were possible allies and we just hadn't ran into them yet. Then, I found a reality promising enough to scout.

As we moved through the halls of this Atlantis, we talked a hell of a lot less now then when we did when we'd first begun the search. I had to wonder, that even if the Asurans left us alone, gave us the months we needed, holding off their attack for whatever reason, that maybe _we_ wouldn't be able to hold out…to keep going to all these alternate realities. They were already beginning to blur together.

When I felt the impact of the stunner against my back all I had time to do was utter, "Oh, no," and then I felt the hard floor against my face and saw black combat boots, then darkness.

I woke up in one of the holding cells.

Everyone else was awake. Teyla sat cross-legged on the floor, Ronon hovered next to the wall nearest the door, and Carson was sitting next to me. "This is bad," I stated.

Ronon looked over his shoulder at me, held it for a moment, then turned back to stare at the guard, doing some kind of threatening thing. I thought about reminding him that we were in _here_, and the guard was out _there_, so really, waste of time, but then again, the guard was looking a little nervous at the continued stare.

"I'm beginning to think I'm not cut out for this mission," Carson mumbled forlornly.

The door slid open and Sheppard came through. _Sheppard_.

He shot a questioning look at the guard and stuck his chin out in that way he had. "Sergeant?" he prompted.

"Nothing, sir. The big one there, he's spent the entire time staring at me, and the others were slower to come 'round."

"Okay, then," Sheppard said. He came over to the cell and skimmed his eyes over us. "You, and you, I recognize." He had pointed at Carson and then me.

"Then why are you keeping us in a cell?" I demanded, standing up.

"But seeing how _you're_ on the mainland…" Sheppard tilted his head and added with a grin, "I _checked_." I followed him with my eyes as he circled the cell. "That means that at least two of you are some kind of imposters, or clones."

"Clones?" I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Please, this isn't science fiction, Sheppard. Try alternate realities."

He stopped and leaned in, vaguely annoyed with me, but staying far enough back that he didn't touch the force field. "We _have_ clones."

I straightened. "You do?" Really? Wow…that's kind of…hey, would you mind if we cloned you?" At Carson's sharp look I waved my hands irritably, "Solves everything!"

"No!" Sheppard retorted, looking like I'd asked for his firstborn or something. Then he settled and looked only mildly irritated at me. "Besides…they don't…live long."

Oh, not irritated then…embarrassed. Ha! "Carson could help with that."

"Rodney!" Carson shoved me aside, then quickly explained we were from another reality, scouting out other realities. Sheppard seemed to accept it. He stared curiously at all of us. When he finally agreed to let us go, under Teyla's assertions that we would not only agree to leave now, but that we would show him where the mirror was so that they could secure it, he admitted that he believed the whole 'alternate reality' schtick because apparently _I_ wasn't _really_ alive anymore, just Carson, and he was off caring for a bunch of sick Athosians on the mainland. As for Ronon and Teyla, he'd never met them. The leader of the Athosians was a man named Dagan. I saw Teyla pale and she admitted in her reality, Dagan was her father, and he had been culled years ago.

On the way to the mirror, I explained in more detail about alternate realities. Ronon hovered close, continuing to shoot the guards vague threatening looks – I think he was just pissed because we'd been stunned without warning – and as we left the transporter, Sheppard jerked his head at Ronon and muttered, "What's with the watch dog?"

"We picked him up after Ford went dark side," I confided, our heads practically touching. Then I straightened and we shared a moment of realizing that the 'we' wasn't 'us'.

His face went to a similar sad place and said, "It hasn't been the same since you…died. You know, if you're looking for a place --"

"I can't." I almost wanted to. His drooping shoulders made me wish I could, but not in the way he meant. I could take him with us. He'd lost me, I'd lost him – two halves to form a whole. "I'm --"

"Sorry," he finished. "I know. Well, look at it this way, we'll always have the memories."

So, this Sheppard wasn't _quite_ like my Sheppard. He was more open, but I could still feel the deadly danger that always seemed to hum underneath his skin. The mirror waited, and I quickly brought up the right reality. The others went ahead, Ronon last, with another warning look until I finally said, "Would you stop that! What, you think he's gonna kidnap me and keep me here? Just go."

After Ronon did leave, the guards suddenly seemed too close. "You aren't going to kidnap me?"

He leaned lazily on the wall. "I thought about it, but you can go, just answer me one thing before you do."

"What?"

"Did I ever tell you how I felt before I died?"

"Did you ever tell me?"

Sheppard shook his head. "I guess maybe things don't always work out, do they?"

"Please, this is the Pegasus galaxy," I snorted. "Nothing ever seems to work out."

He nodded, and pushed off the wall. He gave me a small wave as I touched the mirror, instantly transported away from him.

For such a genius idea, this was turning out to suck incredibly badly.

"We should eat," Teyla said.

Momentarily losing the veil of selfishness, I realized that it wasn't just sucking for me. I took the powerbar from Ronon, dropped on the floor next to Carson, and let my head rest against the wall.

Chewing, I admitted, "This might take longer than we have."

"I think it might be bloody impossible."

Ronon swallowed a mouthful. "You give up too easy."

"It's not called 'giving up too easy'," I argued. "Besides, it's self-preservation. Any situation that's going to have Sheppard near death will, oddly enough, place us in the same situation."

Why was I arguing in favor towards giving up?

"You don't want to run into another copy that you have to leave behind."

Of course, Ronon was right. I crumpled the wrapper and tossed it to the floor, standing abruptly, because I sure as hell wasn't going to admit to the wookie just how close to home he'd hit. I had my pride, and being read by someone who'd been raised on 'see the sun rise there, see the sun set here' wasn't on the same playing field as someone like me, when I'd teethed on Faraday's law. I was supposed to be complex, complicated…

"Are you done psychoanalyzing me, Freud? We have a Sheppard to rescue." And stubborn…I was definitely stubborn.

Teyla walked by, and told me, "Carson has taught me about Sigmund Freud. He had very…unusual ideas."

I followed her progress to the mirror, bemused, then shot a filthy look at Carson. "Why?" I had to demand. Couldn't that be considering corrupting alien minds?

He shrugged his pack into place on his shoulders, kicked his own trash into the pile where we'd mutually kept the mess in one location. "It wasn't my idea, Rodney, so don't go giving me that look. It was Grodin that started it. He and Radek were having a conversation about the Id and the Ego, and I happened to be standing nearby, minding my own business, I might add --"

"Oh, shut up," I snapped.

"Who's Freud?" Ronon asked.

It was a moment that could've been lifted from any other day, on any other mission, except one person was missing, and because of that, it all seemed to be flat, like I was living in past memories, painted in sepia, and pulled out for forced reminiscing. "Let's try again," I muttered, ignoring his question.

As I scrolled through possible realities, I heard Teyla explaining Sigmund to Ronon.

There. That one had promise. Water was puddling on the floor, but not too high, ankle deep if I guessed right. "We brought emergency air tanks, right?" I knew we had, but when I get nervous, I talk. Often uselessly. Sometimes importantly.

"We did," Teyla confirmed.

"Good, get them out. I don't think we'll have a lot of time to assess what's happening here, and we might have to pass by other dying personnel, so get ready." It was the first time I'd acknowledged a considerable dark side of my plan. If we found a dying Sheppard on Atlantis, odds were, we'd find other personnel we knew dying. If their counterparts were dead in our reality, we could bring them back, but otherwise, bringing anyone else to our reality would only delay the inevitable, and dying from temporal entropic cascade failure was bound to be incredibly painful. The only solution would be for us to search through other realities where those people would not exist and frankly, that was when it got too tedious and I'd told Elizabeth my recommendation was for rescuing Sheppard only, regardless of who else might be with him.

That's when Elizabeth had asked, "What if _you're_ with him?"

I never did answer her. I don't think she expected me to.

We stepped through, the change in ambient temperature shocking enough that I inhaled sharply and swore, "Jesus!" Alarms were blaring, and emergency lights were all I could see. This Atlantis was in trouble; it was almost tangible.

"—anything?" Carson demanded above the din.

Oh, right. Life signs detector. I pulled it from my vest pocket and stared at the display. There were life signs, but very few, and above us. "That way," I pointed out the door. We'd have to go to the transporter that was nearer to the center of the city and find our way up to see if one of the life signs was Sheppard.

Progress was slow because the doors were shut. I had to override each one as we went. Particularly disturbing was the water that was deeper after each override. "They're locking down because of the water." I had said it aloud but I was thinking this through in my mind. Somewhere up ahead, the city was taking on water, and it'd sealed the doors to try and limit the damage. "Why is it doing that?"

"Why is what doing that?"

I looked up at Ronon. We were at the next door, and he was trying to figure out what I was rambling about, which was never a good idea for anyone but me. "The city," I explained. "Radek and I theorized that if we submerged the city without shields, the first areas to flood would be the outer --" Wait a minute, wait a minute! "That was in the case of shield failure _and_ a direct order to the city to submerge." I looked up at the ceiling where the lights were mostly dead. "But if the city lacked the power to submerge, then anyone left would have to rig explosives in key locations to cause the city to take on water and sink. Just sabotaging the ballast tanks wouldn't work fast enough because of the redundancies!" I snapped my fingers excitedly, this was it! If Sheppard was still here, I had a pretty good idea of where to look for him, because knowing him, he would've been on the team to set the charges.

Carson, Teyla and Ronon were staring at me with matching 'what the fuck?' looks and I just shook my head and pointed back the way we'd come. "This way, trust me. We don't have time for me to explain!"

"Wouldn't a nuke have been more effective?" Carson huffed behind me as I sprinted through the ankle deep water.

I was all but running, because if I was right, odds are the life signs detector wouldn't do a damn bit of good. The rate of influx, how many charges they would have likely set, and picking the direction the teams would have taken. Sheppard would've taken the assignment most likely to result in death, and not ordered anyone else to shoulder that risk, although I had to wonder, the life signs above, what was their plan? Playing cards in the fashion of the doomed Titanic passengers, waiting for the inevitable? Or was there a ship that was going to rescue the survivors?

"Rodney? Carson is right, if they wished to destroy the city, a nuclear bomb would be far more effective, in which case, perhaps we should abandon this reality and look for another?"

Another door blocked our path; we'd passed the room we'd arrived in via the mirror and were now heading to an access way that would allow us to go one floor down. We were all ready below water level on this floor, one down would lead to one of the vulnerable locations Radek and I had discussed, and it was the farthest away from a transporter and any possible escape. The south pier was one of the most damaged in our reality, and it seems the design flaw that caused it to be existed in this reality as well.

"McKay," Ronon prodded. "Are we gonna get vaporized?"

Right. I wasn't ignoring them on purpose, I was just busy. Lots of thoughts, lots of worries, come on you damn door, open! I swore as the override didn't work. "Just shut up," I snapped. "If we get nuked you'll be the first to know." Now, second override, come on…yes!

The door pulled open slowly, and a gush of water slid out and crashed against our shins.

I could see the lines in the floor ahead where the access way was, and I practically ran to it. I knew time was counting rapidly against us. _If_ he was here, _if_ he was below, _if_ my mental calculations about the depth of water I was seeing up here were right…cold water drowning victims could survive for extended lengths of time. I read about a man that was fully resuscitated after sixty minutes, and right now, my calculations put anyone below us at having been submerged for at least thirty minutes, but hopefully less than sixty. We had to get to him _now_. _If_.

"Help me," I grunted, tugging on the curved half-moon handle to pry the metal slab up. Normally, it would've pulled up with little effort, but the almost foot deep water was pushing down on it despite my tugging.

Ronon shoved my hand aside and yanked, straining hard enough that his lips bared against his teeth and I could see muscles flexing underneath skin. With a sluicing motion, water slid away, and the panel came free. Looking down, all I saw was dim water, and a far off glow. Could the glow be from a submerged flashlight? Crap crap crap. "I've got to go in there," I said, all ready stripping off my boots. We'd already decided who'd go in this scenario. Ronon couldn't swim, and neither he nor Teyla could activate ATA tech that might block access to Sheppard. Carson would need to be available to immediately begin any type of medical care needed.

"This is insanity, Rodney!" Carson was staring at the hole that led into a deep water grave.

I tossed my boot and grabbed the rescue tank from Teyla's outstretched hand. "You're only now realizing that? Of course it's insane! Now, get ready, we're going to have to get him back to our reality in order for you to resuscitate him." _If_ he was down there.

We'd brought headlamps and I fixed one now over my head, flipping it on. I shoved Carson to the side, and stepped over the hole, my rescue tank clutched tight against my chest.

The cold made my heart stutter, but I flipped myself around till I was heading downward, and I remembered deep blue skies. I _felt_ it. _He_ was _here_.

When I swam down towards the flashlight, a body brushed against mine, and I pulled back, fighting the rush of horror. Then the body rolled eerily in front and my headlamp illuminated the face, and the horror asserted itself, this time stronger than before. It was me. Oh, God. It was _me_. I didn't know whether to panic or help, when I realized the eyes were staring sightlessly in the water, the body floating free. I…_he_ was dead – and he'd stay that way. _See, Elizabeth, I can handle this._ And if _he_ was here, then Sheppard wasn't far away.

Desperation and a sense of time running out made me swim harder, and I found him, down further, the flashlight coming from the P90 still hooked to his vest. I sucked in oxygen from my tank, and unclipped the gun. His eyes were thankfully closed. More creeped out than I could ever say by swimming amongst bodies, I grabbed his vest, and pulled, kicking up with all I had in me. I sucked another breath in from the emergency tank, then two, and aimed for the opening I could barely make out the small exit above.

It was a square of water lighter than any other, and I bumped the ceiling before I could stick a hand up through the water and waved frantically, centering Sheppard's deadweight enough for them to grab him. They pulled him up through the access way, and I followed on my own. I got myself standing, soaked and shivering, to see Ronon all ready wading in the now knee-deep water as fast as he could through the hall, heading back to the mirror. Sheppard was slung over his shoulder and my gut clenched painfully at the familiar body. "Can you save him?" I shouted desperately at Carson. I didn't want to take his corpse back. I couldn't go through that again.

"I won't know until I try," Carson ground out. "Now on with you!"

We made it back to the mirror in half the time it'd taken us to get to him; the doors had stayed open because of my overrides. I quickly located our reality, and we touched through. Carson called for the medical team, and started snapping orders at us. Blankets, while he rolled Sheppard and began swiping in the colonel's mouth to ensure the airway was clear, the ambubag, more blankets, and all the while they worked on him, I stood off to the side and shivered.

The medical team and Carson raced away with him, leaving us standing in the debris. The blanket Teyla wrapped around my shoulders barely registered as I stared at the discarded medical detritus. She tried to smile. "It worked, Rodney. We found him."

"We'll see."

Ronon looked at the mess, then focused on me. "Are we gonna go see if he's okay?"

"It'll be a while till they know," I told him. "They'll have to warm his body up first and they have to go slow. We've got to get changed, and dry. Then we'll see if we brought him back only to have to go through another memorial service."

We left, not bothering to clean up the mess. Eventually, Elizabeth would send someone to deal with it. We reached my room first and as the door slid open, Ronon slapped me on the back in a gesture so familiar it made me ache.

"You did good, McKay."

I could only nod, but I tried to let him understand with that small nod, that I appreciated it. I wasn't used to being thankful to anyone for much, but we'd just spent…what time was it? I peered in through my door, focused on the LCD and realized it'd been over fourteen hours since we'd began searching again this morning. We'd been lucky. It'd only taken us ten days. Or, _maybe_ we'd been lucky…time would tell if this Sheppard would survive.

Teyla lightly touched my arm. "Whatever happens, you did your best."

I raised my chin slightly and forced more of a smile forward. "Thank you."

Before we could degenerate into Places I Didn't Want to Go, I escaped inside my door, and let it close behind me. As I clutched the blanket tighter around my shoulders and headed tiredly for the bathroom, I had to wonder, were we lucky because fate owed us, or were we lucky because everything was about to go spectacularly wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

It was surprising to find the infirmary quiet. I paused at the door, not sure if I wanted to go in, which was complete and utter stupidity. The location of my body wouldn't change whether or not Carson had been able to revive Sheppard. Here, there -- he was either still alive, or he was dead, and what the hell would I do with his body? Send it back through the quantum mirror; try to find the reality we'd rescued him from?

Carson walked through a side door, focused on me, and stopped.

I think I stopped breathing.

Then the smile spread and he said, "He's responding to stimuli, though his core temperature still has a few degrees to go."

"Brain damaged?"

The smile slipped a little and he shook his head. "It's too early to tell, he most likely won't regain consciousness for a while."

Great. Always making me wait on him. Funny how perverse even an alternate reality Sheppard could be. "Could I --"

"Go, sit with him." Carson pointed through the door he'd just walked through. "He's critical, but studies show it's comforting to be talked too. That is, I suppose, if you existed in that reality with him."

"I did," I said flatly.

He hesitated, and for a moment I thought he'd ask, but Carson, despite my repeated insinuations, wasn't stupid. There was only one way I could've known that, and he wilted a little before moving to a computer I'd installed myself for him against the far alcove. Shaking off the chills that I were sure came from remembering the ghostly sight of my dead face staring at me underwater, I headed for Sheppard's side.

I had thought I was prepared for seeing him – seeing him _here_, in this reality, but I wasn't…and the strength of the impact when it hit made me think just how incredibly naïve I'd been to even consider that I could've prepared myself. He was covered in a warming blanket, tubes ran under the blanket, and they were blood red, hooked into a machine. They were warming his blood, what was that called…extracorporeal circulation?

He was hooked to the ventilator, and I thought it was grossly unfair that the first time I got to get a good look at him, he was obscured and cluttered.

Sheppard was here, he was alive, and I both didn't care that he wasn't _my_ Sheppard, and hated him _because_ he wasn't.

It completely sucked that Heightmeyer had been killed in the first Siege years ago, and the UNA had never decided to fill the empty position. It'd been labeled an unnecessary civilian risk. I wasn't exactly the epitome of normal before I'd come to Atlantis, and it seemed with every year spent here, I was moving farther and farther away from what could be considered 'safe to rejoin society.' The fact that I was staring at an alternate reality of a man that was supposed to be dead, at his body that we'd misappropriated to serve our needs, only reminded me that I wasn't the only one on Atlantis to have crossed a healthy divide into possibly psychotic.

Well, they do say, misery loves company.

"I'd say you can't die, but you've all ready done that, so maybe I should just say you need to live."

I sounded squeaky, and whiny. I had meant to sound abrasive and demanding.

"Oh, this is great," I swore. I pulled up a chair and dropped into it with frustration. "You know, if you'd been here even a week ago, I wouldn't have been able to shut up, but now…now I don't remember half of the things I wanted to say." I focused on the sliver of pale skin I could see just under the blanket. How was it that every Sheppard I'd ran into made me annoyed?

I wanted him to wake up, talk, reassure me that he was compos mentis, and that everything would be fine…

…then again, I hadn't put nearly enough thought into how I was going to explain this to him. Oh, by the way, in case you hadn't put obvious and obvious together, we abducted you from your reality (you were dying anyway) and brought you to ours. Cheers.

The steady beeping of Sheppard's EKG monitor lulled me into a doze, and it didn't register at first, the gagging sound. I jerked, stared uncomprehendingly until my brain decided to join the living, and realized Sheppard was staring up frantically, choking on the tube. Shit. "Carson, get in here!"

He was all ready running in, the screeching monitors giving everyone a clue that something was happening. I stumbled back, out of the chair, off to the side. Listened to Carson soothing him, telling him to cough hard and then the tube was out and Sheppard was _coughing_.

The warming blanket was gone, the tubes and machine, also gone. I must have slept a lot longer than I'd thought. At the same time I heard the raspy voice ask, "What happened?"

I wasn't even aware I'd left until I was leaning against the wall in the corridor.

OoO

"He has amnesia?" Elizabeth's disbelief matched my own, but whereas she seemed flustered, I was relieved.

Ronon and Teyla were sitting with Sheppard, keeping him company and giving him some background information about Atlantis, who he was (just his name and rank), and who we were. I hadn't been back to seem him yet, because not long after he'd woken up, Carson had called the briefing to discuss Sheppard's status.

"This is a good thing," I argued. "If he'd had his memory, he either would've thanked me or shot me, for what we did. This way, he can start over with a clean slate. It's perfect." I kind of thought it was a little too perfect, and wondered if Sheppard wasn't playing a little cat and mouse, but if he was, I'd find out eventually.

"Are you saying we should let him believe that he is _our_ Sheppard?" Lorne's disgust rode loud and clear across the table.

I stared at Lorne and said acerbically, "If you speak English, then yes."

Elizabeth turned to the one person that had been mostly silent. "Carson? What's your opinion of how we should proceed?"

His fingers fiddled with each other, with the table's surface, and finally he looked at me and exhaled heavily. "I don't like it, but I'm afraid Rodney might be onto something. We barely know what kind of mental ramifications the colonel might face --"

"_Sheppard_ might face," Lorne corrected.

"Would you knock it off all ready," I snapped. "I realize that you have military concerns about the man in the infirmary, and contrary to your obviously small-minded beliefs, I'm perfectly capable of understanding that he might be some mirror universe crazy John Sheppard, with dreams of galactic domination, but until we are given reason to believe otherwise, let's approach him as we would _our_ Colonel Sheppard, seeing how the entire reason we have gone through this was so that he could save our asses!" I was known for being arrogant, rude and cutting, but losing my temper to this degree was a new one on me, and from the shocked expressions around the table, to everyone else as well. I huffed and added less loudly, "I'm just saying that if we expect him to operate a weapon to the benefit of us all, we should treat him a little better than a suspected criminal, don't you think?" I aimed the last part towards Lorne.

"Look, McKay, I wasn't implying he's a criminal, I just find his amnesia a little _convenient_."

"Did you stop to think that maybe it's convenient because his last memories were less than pleasant?"

Elizabeth's hand rose in the air. "Stop it, both of you!" She waited till it was clear I was going to keep my mouth shut, and really, I wasn't sure I was, but before I'd made up my mind on what else to tack onto the thought, she'd begun to talk again. "For now, I'm going to accept the recommendation that we allow Sheppard to believe he's where he belongs, and for all intents and purposes, he _is_ where he belongs…but no one is to lie to him, is that clear? If he remembers, if he asks the right question, I don't care if it's at the wrong time, I will not condone lying to compound the all ready murky ground we are on." She stared at me the longest before asking, "Is that understood?"

Dryly, I said, "I've been capable of following directions since I doodled the quadratic equation in crayon on my wall." I shot Lorne a look that said 'how about you?'

"I got it," he stated succinctly.

"Good," she said evenly. "Then we'll proceed with drawing up the plans for deploying the weapon against the Asurans if they move against us while Sheppard recovers. Rodney, if you have any further studies on the weapon, now is the time to run them."

"I need Sheppard to finish." I'd gotten as far as I could, but it needed the ATA gene, and all I or Carson had been able to do was get it to power up enough to run diagnostics. Not enough to know its full potential -- for that, we were still relying on what the databanks revealed about the weapon.

Elizabeth stood, lifted her tablet PC off the table and folded it against her chest. "Carson, when do you feel he'll be healthy enough to leave the infirmary?"

"Tomorrow." He tapped his stylus on the table and added, "Barring any complications."

"Then, Rodney, I suggest you spend time with him, get him used to you and see if he'll be ready to help with the weapon. I think we all know time has been running against us. The Asurans tried to take over Atlantis before, they'll try again, and I don't imagine I need to remind you what will happen if we fail to stop them." She swept Lorne and Carson into her gaze and said, "Gentlemen, we have jobs to do, let's do them. Professionally."

OoO

When I went to the infirmary later, after checking in at my lab on the progress of an unrelated project, Sheppard was in the main room, sitting up in bed, dressed in white scrubs. His hair flopped over his forehead and the white clothes against his skin made him look tan and healthy, for someone that had _drowned_.

"You're awake," I said. Stupid. Inane. But it wasn't like I was going to say 'I know you're not really my Sheppard, but I'm still relieved to see you're going to be okay.'

"Yeah."

He was watching me with hooded curiosity, and he was so much _my_ Sheppard, that I almost left again. I couldn't do this. I seriously couldn't do this. I'd had less than altruistic reasons for going through that mirror, and now, presented with the results, I just…I never did do emotions well. I didn't handle them the right way. When other people bucked up, I crumpled. When others got angry, I got depressed. When they were afraid, I got pissed. So now, when I was supposed to be happy, because even though he wasn't the Sheppard born in this reality, he was _still_ Sheppard – I was lost.

"So, they tell me you've lost your memory?" I picked the only thing that came to mind, and really, on his part, it had to be a pretty _big_ thing.

"That's generally the consensus when you can't remember the last four years."

The inflections were almost the same, the low timbre on _years_ to give it the emphasis he liked to use when he was making attempts at levity in the face of less than funny situations. If he only knew just how 'heavy' this was. Maybe he did. Maybe this was all a show, like I'd wondered earlier, but if it was, he was putting on a good one, because all I sensed behind those eyes was confusion.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "McKay," I said.

"What?"

"My name."

He scrunched his face a little. "They all ready told me that."

Right. Teyla and Ronon, they'd been filling in background. But had they called him Major, or Colonel? Probably Colonel, seeing how that was the only rank Ronon had even known him as and that was the rank he'd held in this reality.

"Well, what didn't they tell you that you want to know?" I found a chair and sat, wishing I had my laptop with me. "I don't usually serve as a glorified omnipedia, but for you, I'll make the exception."

There weren't any tubes left sticking in him anywhere, except an IV, and he looked annoyed with that as he shifted on the gurney. "Teyla," he said, as if trying out the name, "told me I drowned in an accident, but was resuscitated. But my memories end in Afghanistan. So, they couldn't explain how I got from there to here, seeing how they are apparently from this _galaxy_ and not Earth."

He could've started off with an easier question. But then again, this was Sheppard. "Uh," I crossed my legs, stalling. "You don't happen to remember a rescue attempt that ended in a lot of people dying before your memory cuts off, do you?" He couldn't have picked a more uncomfortable spot if he'd tried. It was like a kid waking up on week two of a month long grounding and asking 'why am I in trouble' only to find out they broke the neighbor's car by trying to enhance the engine for improved speed and fuel consumption.

Not that I would personally know _anything_ about that (and really, if it hadn't been for shoddy workmanship, it would've worked).

Sheppard's face got even more disturbed. "Chopper accident?"

I nodded slowly, wondering not for the first time if maybe I really had been insane to contemplate this idea, but then I remembered the circular room, the Replicators surrounding us and running, Ronon punching me, being thrown to the ground, and hearing the explosion that changed _everything_.

With renewed sense of why, I began, "You were flying a mission to drop a Special Forces team behind enemy lines. After you did a successful drop and were on the way back, you heard over the radio they were taking heavy fire. They'd walked into an ambush. You turned around against orders to try and retrieve them." I tried to remember everything I'd read in his file because it wasn't something he'd ever talked freely about. "You had two other crewmembers at the time and a VIP passenger, observing. When you attempted to land for the survivors to get aboard, the chopper was hit by anti-aircraft missiles." The file had been impersonal. Facts on paper. I'd never blamed him, or thought he'd acted wrongly, but what I'd thought didn't matter. "You were the only survivor. The enemy thought you were dead, and a recon team extracted you, and the other bodily remains about twelve hours later."

"They blamed me." He stated it flatly, not looking at me. I felt a sharp snarl of guilt, because I really had no idea what had happened in _his_ reality. It could be far from the events that'd happened to my Sheppard. I rather hoped it was a lot different, because when we'd first met, he'd been beaten down by the awful events, the trial, and it was only the mandatory testing of military personnel for the ATA gene that had saved him from Leavenworth.

He'd never lost his impulsive edge, always risking his life to save others, and it'd finally cost him his own.

"Yes," I agreed soberly. "They needed a scapegoat for the loss of the VIP who shouldn't have been there in the first place, and if it hadn't been for the ATA gene testing program you'd have had a much different life." For one, he would've still been alive, albeit, incarcerated. Ignoring that thought, I pressed on. "This city requires a special gene to work the technology, fly the ships – you have that gene, and it manifests the strongest in you, comparatively, with everyone else that has it. You were critical to this expedition." I really wished I had brought my laptop. Not having anything to occupy my hands with was driving me nuts. "Given the choice of six years in Leavenworth and a dishonorable discharge, or shipping out to another galaxy on a most likely suicidal expedition, you made the only reasonable decision."

"I can see that," he drawled, lifting his arms.

Seeing the haunted look on his face made me angry. "You have nothing to feel guilty for," I snapped. "It would take the better part of an hour to list all the lives you've saved since we arrived, my own included."

His eyebrow raised in cynicism. "Redemption? Is that what I've been doing for the last four years?"

This wasn't going well. Of course, I shouldn't have expected less. Sheppard never had been good at accepting his own shortcomings. Everyone had them, even me -- yes, I know, incredible -- yet Sheppard had plowed over life and tried to live as if he'd had none. It was why the trial and the subsequent public airing of a tragic dose of reality had left him with emotional scars that made me look stable in comparison.

"Look, I realize this is a shock --"

"A shock?" He laughed bitterly. "A shock would be finding out your mom's dead – this…this is a tsunami. My actions _killed_ innocent people."

I looked fairly miserable.

"What?" he demanded roughly.

"Your mom passed away last year."

Again, I had no idea when _this_ Sheppard's mom had really died. Fuck. I was really beginning to hate this. I stared away, and looked around the room. It was empty. Could I? Why the hell not? I was breaking every other rule lately, and some rules that the majority of my peers didn't even believe in past the theoretical. "Get up," I demanded, doing the same.

He looked like he'd lost his puppy. "Why? You're not going to line me up against a wall and shoot me or anything?"

"Trust me, after all the trouble I've been through for you, I'd pack you in bubble wrap if I could," I muttered. "Now just…come with me." He slipped out of his bed, looked down at his scrubs, the tubing running into his hand and then at me. I considered his attire and sighed. "Okay, minor detail, we'll stop by your quarters and get you some clothes."

Damn it. _His_ quarters.

I hadn't been in there since right after, and I'd refused to let anyone pack up his personal items, because after I'd gotten over the shock of what'd happened, I'd started planning what had ultimately ended with _this_ Sheppard looking at me. Well, I _had_ grudgingly allowed someone to dust. I grabbed a band aid off a nearby tray and tossed it to him for him to put over the back of his hand.

He stared uncertainly at me for a beat, and I thought for a minute he was going to refuse, but then he went along with it, and yanked the IV free, quickly applying the bandage. "Where are we going?"

"Just…come on." I strode through the door and didn't wait to see if he was following or not.

O

The room responded to him, lights turning on the moment his feet touched inside. I wasn't even jealous, because I could relate. He walked in, his eyes scanning the bed in the middle of the far wall, beige gauzy curtains hanging loosely down to the headboard, the trumpet resting on the music stand, his skateboard leaning against the corner. A picture of him, his sister and his mom on the nightstand. He'd told me once they'd taken it before he'd left for Atlantis.

He went to the picture, lifted and turned it over. In a smooth motion he slid it free of the frame and read the scrawled names and date that my Sheppard had apparently written on the back. Satisfied or not, I couldn't tell, but he slid it back and put the frame exactly where it'd been.

I felt like a voyeur, but at the same time, I couldn't pull myself away. I wanted to see if he was faking amnesia, look for any reaction that would give him away, but so far, the stark blankness seemed sincere. If he'd had a sister or not in the other reality, I didn't know, and if he never regained his memory, I don't suppose I ever would.

He lifted a medal and turned around to me. "What's this?"

"The Genii," I said, moving closer to take it from him. It was a thick bar of golden metal with an outline of a planet superimposed over Atlantis etched across the top. I remembered the joint mission against the Asurans when Sheppard had earned it. I smiled wistfully at the memory, before pushing it back to him. "You saved over twenty five of their people in a rescue mission." I really had been naïve to not consider how much this part was going to hurt. I'd been there on that mission, and I'd been there after, when he'd lain in the infirmary recovering. "Redemption, Sheppard, you've been doing it to ridiculously accomplished levels."

He took the medal and put it back on the table next to the picture, then wandered to the small clothing bureau against the other wall, diagonally across from the bed. He pulled a t-shirt and socks out, then his eyes drifted to my uniform. "Do I have one of those?"

"No, Colonel, we make you walk around Atlantis in your tighty whities." I rolled my eyes, and pulled another drawer open, withdrew pants and thrust them at his chest, feeling the heat and hardness of his chest through the material. I let go abruptly, and pulled the jacket from the chair where it'd been draped.

It was almost all I could do to not to bury my face in it, to smell and remember him. Because as much as this was John Sheppard, he wasn't _my_ John Sheppard…the smell on this coat, on his bed, it was all that was left of _him_. Why does it seem like someone's smell lingers on their personal items for long after what is humanly decent? I almost laughed at the ridiculous notion of grabbing him and smelling just to make a comparison.

Even from the afterlife he reduced me to maudlin and pathetic.

"As fun as this is, I have something eminently cooler to show you, so if you could hurry along," I prodded, deciding the best course of action was to run from this room as fast as I could manage without giving anything away. In fact, judging from the curious look he was shooting me, I was pretty sure I'd all ready given something up, but right then, I wasn't entirely sure I cared.

He kind of waved his head at me and stared.

"What?"

"A little privacy?"

"Like I haven't seen it before."

Just as his mouth formed a shocked 'oh,' I rewound that thought. "Uh, not…we weren't…on missions," I stuttered. "Fine, I'll…be out there." I walked backwards, hit the door, turned myself around, almost tripping over my feet, and when the door closed behind me, I leaned against the corridor wall, feeling like my face was flaming a hundred degrees of red.

When the door opened minutes later and he stepped out, fully dressed, I straightened and stared, momentarily floored. If someone could erase _my_ memories, take away the feel of the hard pavement under my skin, the boom from the explosion, and the sight of the deep blue sky above, filling with smoke…

"I didn't really mean --"

I nodded quickly. "Of course, you knew what I meant."

"Right," he nodded back at me. Well, weren't we just a couple of nodding bobbleheads. "This way." I led the way into the hall, and when we got to the transporter I waited till he was standing near me to activate it, taking us to the command deck. "Do me a favor, and follow my lead if anyone stops us."

Seeing how Carson wasn't going to release him until tomorrow, and considering they had to have realized by now that Sheppard was missing, it was a good bet they were looking for us. I don't know why I didn't just radio and tell them I had Sheppard and was taking him for a little tour, but I wasn't Heightmeyer anyway so who cared? I mean, they obviously would care, but it wasn't like I hadn't faced Elizabeth's wrath before. When I'd stolen the Jumper to rescue Sheppard from Ford and his merry men she'd been really pissed.

When we walked around the corner and angled for the stairs, Elizabeth's, "Rodney!" caused my feet to turn into matching stumps of ice. Shit. I let go of the railing, and turned around.

"Yes?" I tried to make it seem innocent. I always did, but usually it just came out sounding guilty. Sheppard had always been better at it.

Speak of the devil. He cleared his throat and gave Elizabeth a charismatic smile. "Hey, there, uh…we were just going to…he was taking me to see…" he nudged me and hissed, "Where were we going?"

Oh, like that was so not going to save us from… "The Jumper bay," I muttered. It was worth a shot. I mean, she'd cared for Sheppard as much as anyone had, and he always did find ways of manipulating her into decisions he wanted. Sometimes I was pretty sure she knew what he was doing.

He smiled broader. "The Jumper bay, to, you know…help me remember."

Her lips thinned and she folded her arms. No no no, not the folded arms. Okay, Sheppard always said 'a best offense is the best defense' or something like that, so… "Teyla and Ronon can only brief him on the basics, because, pardon me for saying so, and no insult intended, but their specialty is primarily in physical brutality and not so much on the technological. If he's going to get back to his _job_," I emphasized, "then we need to get him up to speed, and preferably before we are invaded."

"Carson has been looking for both of you," she stressed. "Rodney, you know patients aren't allowed to leave without permission."

I couldn't hold back the snort. "When did he ever wait for permission?"

Sheppard slugged me on the arm. "That's not fair. You're the one that told me to 'come on.'"

I was just relieved enough that he didn't catch the 'did.' "Well, _you_ were the one looking like someone had snatched your puppy away!"

He cocked his head and folded his arms; enough with the god damn arm folding, I thought.

"I'm the one that can't even remember your name. I'm entitled to look like someone stole my puppy!"

I stepped closer and poked him in the chest with one finger. "I bet you didn't even have a puppy as a kid."

He straightened and unfolded his arms, poking me back. "I had three," he enunciated slowly.

"Gentlemen!"

We both turned and realized that not only was Elizabeth frowning heavily at us, but half the control room was watching, bemused. I inhaled rapidly. This wasn't what I'd meant to happen. I'd wanted to show him the cool spaceships, make him smile, and feel the excitement of being _here_, after talking about depressing memories that might not even belong to him, and now we were bickering in the control room as if _he_ was _him_, and it just…fuck.

"Just let us go," I said, not _begging_.

She didn't seem to know what to do, not even remotely, and I found a savage pleasure in not being the only one flailing about in the aftermath of this ridiculous, but completely necessary, decision. I didn't regret bringing him here, especially not after having touched him, been touched, even in the small way. Seeing him, hearing his voice – he would've been _dead_ in that other reality now, long past help. No, I didn't regret this at all. I hadn't been able to save my Sheppard, but I'd saved the other 'me's' Sheppard, and it had to count for something.

"All right," she agreed softly. Her eyes met mine with a subtle warning. "Just…be careful."

I started up the stairs only to falter as I heard Sheppard mutter, "Aren't we always."

OoO

It was when we were in the Jumper that the attack came, sudden and with no warning --they'd destroyed our long range sensors two months ago. I had no sooner sat down then the ship rocked from a nearby impact against the surface of Atlantis. I stared wide eyed out the view screen, because we hadn't had time to test the weapon or prepare Sheppard, or do anything. I pushed my earpiece. "Elizabeth, how many?" I prayed it was just a probing force. They were going to do their best to take over Atlantis again, we knew that, and by now Radek would've had the shields raised.

"Five," came Elizabeth's clipped response. "Ronon and Teyla are trying to contain the Replicators that got in before the shield was raised. You and John stay put!"

Wait a minute… "No! Elizabeth, call them back, tell them to hold!" I turned away from the view screen and faced Sheppard. He was watching me, not quite sure what was going on. "I need you to do something for me."

"I don't remember any of this, Rodney."

He used my first name. Was it because it's what he'd overheard Elizabeth call me?

I shook the thought away. "It doesn't matter. You don't have to remember how to walk to do what I need you to do." I started towards the rear hatch and then amended, "Okay, you have to walk to get there. But everything _else_ is irrelevant."

We hurried to my lab, and while I got the device from the drawer, I asked Ronon over the radio, "Do you have them contained?"

Gunfire sounded through loud enough to make me wince, then I heard Ronon shouting, "Not for long, get down here McKay!"

Before he cut the connection, I heard more gunfire and Teyla shouting, "Ronon! To your left!" Then I heard static.

I looked at Sheppard and realized he'd been listening, his head so near mine we almost touched. He frowned at the device. "Is that what you need me for?"

"Yes." I handed it to him. "Remember that gene I told you about, the one that got you sent here over prison?"

I hated the pained grimace I caused but he nodded, turning the small device over in his hands.

"Right, well, a great deal -- too much, really -- of the Ancient technology requires this gene to function and even though I have it, and others do, the gene ability is strongest in you. This weapon," I pointed at the object that would hopefully annihilate any Asurans that tried to mess with us, and their pet Replicators – the same weapon he was casually bouncing on his _palm_ – "won't work for the rest of us, and we need your magic touch."

"I don't remember how to use it?" But he did stop juggling it.

I pushed him out the door. "It'll come to you!"

"What if it doesn't?" he asked looking at me over his shoulder, and following me as I quickly took the lead, pulling out my pistol.

"Then suddenly prison looks a lot better."

Unspoken, I added, _and I've saved you only to have you die with us._

OoO

We found Ronon and Teyla kneeling, each on a side of the door, taking turns firing. It was a scene that made me go cold inside. But this time there was no bomb, there was no Sheppard pushing me forward and telling me, "I'll be right behind you!"

Although, _he_ was behind me.

The sound of metal claws scraping over metal walls made the hair on my neck raise, and sent me back to those moments, trapped in the middle of the room with Sheppard, only a bomb between us.

"_They're going to keep us prisoners here until the Asurans show up to claim us."_

"_Not if I can help it, Rodney. Set the bomb for five minutes, that should give us enough time to get clear, right?"_

"McKay!" Ronon pulled away from his position and shook my shoulder. "They're coming through if you don't do something, _now_."

He forced me roughly against the wall when a Replicator broke through the door, his body shielding mine, as he aimed his blaster and blew the metallic monster into small chips.

"I'm fine," I snapped, pushing him away.

He hesitated, until Teyla called urgently, "Ronon!" then he was turning and dropping back to his knees, firing once again into the swarm. I pulled my eyes away from the writhing walls showing through the damaged door, and realized Sheppard was staring in dumbfounded surprise.

"I…I thought she said…five."

"Five Sera class ships – they deliver a cargo of a hundred Replicators. Briefing later, weapon now, because in moments, they'll be through this door and into the main levels of the city, and a hell of a lot harder to track down." I watched his mental math. Yes, Sheppard, that meant five hundred of the mechanical bugs. This is why we needed him _and_ that weapon. This was a force only meant to soften us up for the main wave. We wouldn't last through a full out attack.

New teams arrived, and Lorne was there, shoving a P90 in my hand. I stared at it, then at Sheppard. "You need to think it on," I shouted above the noise. "Concentrate!"

He clutched it tight in his hand.

Another Replicator got loose and came skittering through the middle of the hall. I aimed and fired, and so did two other Marines; pieces of metal flew against our bodies as it disintegrated into small inert components.

I turned back to find him with his eyes closed. "Is it doing _anything_?" I hated to interrupt his communing with the device, but the Replicators were still surging forward.

"Fall back!" Lorne ordered, all ready pushing his men towards the next door. The bugs had managed to peel one side of the door open like a ripe banana.

The only problem with falling back is that I knew there was an access way here, on _this_ side of the next door, and I knew if we let them get access to the interior walls, we were screwed. If Sheppard couldn't get this working…

Suddenly, a white corona began to form over Sheppard, beginning at the device held tight in his hand, and spreading out over him like a second skin of fat pearly beads suspended inches from his actual body. It shimmered like oil film on water, snaking around his arm, shoulders, legs, and everyone stopped shooting and moving, mouths agape, watching as the field began to spread to the floor, out from his feet, and up the walls. A Replicator touched inside the door, where the white field had spread, and it fell to the floor, inert.

The glare grew bright enough that I had to shield my eyes.

I heard a series of thuds echoing so loud that the silence that followed was deafening, and then the glare faded. Sheppard's eyes were open again, and he opened his palm, staring at the device in muted surprise. "Huh," he said, then his legs folded, and he hit the ground too fast for anyone to catch him.

OoO

The food on my fork wasn't really interesting, despite how many times I lifted it, swirled and poked, or otherwise rearranged it. Volcanoes, inlets, valleys…face it, I, Rodney McKay, wasn't hungry.

I know, stop the presses. Me and a healthy appetite went way back, to like, the days when I enjoyed fast food via a nipple. But I couldn't stop picturing those damn Replicators in the hall, and couldn't stop finding myself back in another building far away. And I was having an equally hard time shoving away the memory of Sheppard collapsing.

Apparently the weapon exacted a price. Not wraith-draining, or anything that drastic, but his temporary reserves, Carson had explained it, were depleted. Sheppard's electrolytes had been all over the place, and he was back in the infirmary, enjoying an IV cocktail of saline, potassium and some beta blockers to convince his heart that normal sinus rhythm really was a good thing.

"You gonna eat that?"

I looked up from where I'd been forming the Bering Strait. "Yes," I answered sharply. "Go get more if you're so hungry."

"I didn't say I was hungry." Ronon tossed back the remaining juice and set his glass back down. "I'm just tired of watching you play with your food."

"I'm not playing with my food," I grumped. Of course, I was. Completely, and as I erased the Bering Strait and began working on Mt. Vesuvius, I really didn't care. I was only here because Carson had kicked me out, saying Sheppard needed his rest and thereby implying that I would keep him from said rest. "You know the thing that really annoys me?"

Teyla finished chewing what was in her mouth and said, "No, Rodney, what is annoying you?"

"I found him. Well," at her glare I rephrased my comment, "I mean, it was my idea. Technically, you could say, Sheppard belongs to me. Finders keepers."

"He is not a possession." The glare continued relatively unabated.

"I know that." Really, I did, it was just…being kept from him _annoyed_ me.

Ronon reached across the table and plucked the fork out of my hand. "Look at it this way, McKay, we know the weapon works."

"I know that, too." I glared at my fork still in his hand. "Are you going to give that back or am I going to have to embarrass myself in trying to pry it from your much larger, manly fingers?"

He tossed it at my plate. "No more mountains," he warned.

"Rodney, have you considered telling him the truth?"

Had I thought of it? It's all I did think about it. I hated misleading him, but at the same time, the mental balance in my mind, the one with the pros and cons, it just wasn't coming out in the 'telling him' favor, and the cons were winning...cons like imagining him shooting me when he found out I essentially kidnapped his dying body.

Of course, he couldn't shoot me unless Lorne let him have a gun, and I didn't see that happening anytime soon.

"Rodney?"

Teyla prodded again, watching me like I was some bacteria under a microscope. I sighed, stopped working on Cape Hatteras, and pushed away from the table. "Yes, I've considered it. When Radek shows up tell him I'm in my lab, studying the device."

I left before they could say anything else.

OoO

I pushed the dead Replicators to the side, some of them falling to the floor with a clatter, as I tried to make a clear area on my bench. I'd told Lorne to take a hundred and set them aside for testing, but now I wished I'd told him to stack them in my _other_ lab. I uncovered my bench enough to work, and pulled up a stool. By the time I was resting my chin on my hand, elbow propped on the surface, I could smell that the coffee was done in the pot and the databanks access was booted.

Pouring a cup and opting for black instead of bothering with sugar or cream, I quickly typed in the new parameters for a search on the Asurans, excluding the topics I had all ready read. Once it was underway, I walked around the perimeter of my lab, sipping my coffee and powering up the few machines that I took the time to turn off when no one was going to be using them. We did have to consider the electric bill, so to speak. I had to step around the mechanical bugs that were heaped in a pile everywhere I turned. They looked like straw piles on farms; some of them were canted on their sides, barely clinging to the form of the pile.

I flipped the last switch on the spectroscope and turned around, truly seeing my lab for the first time. Maybe fifty would've been a better number.

Unlike when SG-1 had blasted them with ballistics fire, the weapon Sheppard had used had done something to these Replicators. Burned them up from the inside maybe, because all that was left was a creepy paperweight. Staring again at the piles and the ones on my bench, I had to think again, _very_ creepy.

I should've been feeling elation that we'd been right about the weapon, that we'd just defeated five hundred Replicators without a single casualty, instead, I felt oddly empty. You know, this is why the UNA should've authorized a new psychologist. How was I supposed to save the galaxy _and_ get in touch with my feelings?

The search was still listing findings, so while it ran I picked up the nearest Replicator and moved to the area on my bench, at the far end nearest the coffee pot, where I had the testing sensors. Without thought, I went through the motions of attaching the leads – one on each…appendage – _creepy_ – then I attached two on the head, well, what did they call that on spiders? Seeing how the Replicators closely resembled a metal arachnid anyway –cephalothorax, wasn't it? Biology had never been my favorite. One of the soft sciences.

"Rodney!"

The radio boomed to life in my ear, and I winced, activating it and snapping, "Do you mind? In my ear, Carson, no need to speak at eighty decibels!"

"You need to come to the infirmary," he said hurriedly, ignoring my complaint, and I heard something in his voice that caused my blood to chill even before he added, "It's Sheppard."

OoO

I rarely run. I could count on my hands how many times I flat out ran to or from anything in the past year, and two of those times were in the span of the last month.

"_Run, Rodney! God damn it, don't waste your time looking back, I'm right behind you!"_

I'd ran. I hadn't looked back until I was clear of the building, and had met back up with Teyla and Ronon just outside. They'd followed me, not understanding anymore than I had what the colonel had intended, until it was too late, and Ronon took his final order and didn't even let me try to go back for him.

_The deep blue sky, with billowing puffs of gray and white, spreading across the horizon like a cutting stain._

But now I was running, and by the time I caught myself on the frame of the infirmary door, and pulled myself up from sliding past, I saw Sheppard on the bed, his body shaking and warping, while Carson and a nurse tried to hold him down, unable to do a thing to help.

A desert formed in my mouth, and I think I held the door tighter to keep myself upright. It couldn't be.

"It can't _be_," I whispered. God, no. No no _no_!

Carson looked at me, fear painted across his face like a canvas. "You told us _he_ was dead!"

'Oh, no." It just couldn't…it couldn't…I'd been so sure!

The rapid shifting of his features, the slurring of his physical lines, as he convulsed for another long moment before it was finally over. Sheppard slumped, exhausted, barely having the energy to ask, "The weapon?"

I swallowed, hard, still staring wide-eyed and trying to process the implications. "No," I finally forced the words to come. I'd never seen it in person, but I'd read the reports of the alternate reality Jackson; watched the video when his body had begun to shake itself apart.

"Something much worse," I breathed. "Temporal entropic cascade failure."


	3. Chapter 3

There was nothing Carson could do. The only thing that would save him would be to find a reality where he truly didn't exist, and send him there. After the episode had passed, I'd pulled Carson into his office, explained that according to previous experiences – his mouth had tightened there – Sheppard had a couple of days, at least, maybe three or four, and as his time drained away, the convulsions would become more frequent, more painful.

Even though Carson didn't say another word about the monumental mistake I'd made, I could feel the accusation heavy between us. Sheppard had instantly demanded to know what the hell entropic cascade failure was, but for that, I didn't want to tell him here, with an audience.

"Let's go to your room," I suggested painfully. It wasn't his room…that was the problem. And now I had to live with the knowledge that my Sheppard, the rightful owner, was alive out there, probably on the Asurans home world, a prisoner for the last month, while we'd mourned him and moved on, even _replaced_ _him_.

As soon as the door closed behind me, he walked with hollow steps to his desk and picked up the picture. He didn't look at me as he asked, "When where you going to tell me the truth?"

"You _were_ faking." The momentary annoyance at being tricked overwhelmed the terrible guilt. "Tell me, where should I send your Oscar nomination, hmmm?" I said bitingly.

He turned and faced me, holding the picture in his hands and taking this with far more stoicism than I'd imagine myself capable of if our positions were reversed. "I knew from the moment I woke up and saw Beckett. He died a year ago in my reality." He chuckled humorlessly and flipped the picture around till I could see it. "I never had a sister, and my mom died when I was twelve."

"I didn't actually think through the plan after the 'rescue a dying Sheppard' stage," I admitted ruefully. I wasn't really the humble sort, and my nature asserted itself as I felt inclined to add, "We would've told you the truth, if you hadn't pretended to have amnesia."

While he chewed on the shared culpability, I wandered around the room, more confused then ever. I couldn't keep _this_ Sheppard because _my_ Sheppard was still alive, out there somewhere, but in order to have either one, I'd have to rescue one and send another away. I'd only known this Sheppard for less than twenty-four hours, and all ready the thought of sending him off to another reality made me want to run to my lab and immerse myself in a plan that would get around temporal physics.

The scientists on Earth hadn't been able to, and that Daniel Jackson hadn't been sent through the mirror to another reality. The NDA had decided he'd seen too much and presented a security risk, and before O'Neill's team could send him through to a safe reality, the NDA had gotten a hold of him. Thirty-six hours later, he'd died, his body twisted from the awful corruptions in his cells and tissues. Closing my eyes against the memory, I swore that, regardless of what happened, that _wouldn't_ happen to this Sheppard.

Then again, the scientists on Earth were nothing but a group of bleating sheep, which is why they were there, and I was _here_.

The uniform he was still wearing was wrinkled, his face showing the shadow of stubble. His hair was longer than my Sheppard's had been, hanging more over his eyebrows than was probably allowed in the military. When he dropped on the bed and stared at the trumpet I felt inclined to ask, "Let me guess, different instrument?"

"Guitar," he confessed.

I sighed, and dropped next to him. "I don't often apologize, but --"

"Don't," he interrupted. "I remember the important stuff. Like drowning." He looked sideways at me. "With you…or him, what I'm trying to say, is that even in my reality, you did what had to be done."

"Ordinarily, I would agree with you. Apologies are a waste of effort because one word fails to undo a thing, yet, let me go against my nature and say it anyway. I'm sorry for bringing you here, putting you through this. I'm sorry for not telling you the truth from the beginning. I'm sorry for not --"

He reached over and placed his hand on my mouth. I stopped talking, felt the heat of his palm against my lips. His eyebrow raised and he said, "Are you done?"

I bobbed my head.

"Good." He pulled his hand away and smiled lazily. "Some things should remain the same, regardless of what reality I'm in, and a humble Rodney McKay goes against the grain of universal nature."

What was I supposed to say now? Where was the confidence and bluster that had so rarely left my side since I'd learn who 'me' was? I knew we'd been given this time for me to talk to him, answer questions, but I also knew they were waiting. We had to make plans, figure out how to solve this, because I knew no one on Atlantis was happy with the thought of this Sheppard dying.

It'd be back to the mirror, searching realities to find him a good home, like he was a God damn _puppy_. I'd have to meet alternate 'me's' and decide who deserved to have a new Sheppard to replace the one they'd lost, while making sure it was a reality that was safe for him, where our counterparts weren't the 'evil mirror universe' pod people. In short, I felt the apprehension similar to someone sending their child off from home.

And we also had to figure out how to rescue our Sheppard.

"So, tell me about these Replicators and explain entropic cascade failure."

I looked up from the floor and the really interesting scuff mark on my boots. "It's a long story."

He shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere."

Seeing how I had played with my dinner instead of eating, I was beginning to feel hungry now. I stood, stretching tired muscles. "Let's talk over some food," I suggested. Bad news always seemed better when you chased it down with pie.

OoO

He had pumpkin, I had the lemon meringue.

And while we lingered over our bites, I explained how we'd first met the Asurans while looking for allies against the wraith. Their planet had a shield that kept them safe, and they'd lived, isolated in their little bubble until we arrived and changed everything. It wasn't until after the wraith were decimated, the few survivors limping away – to where we weren't even sure, the two remaining Hives had simple disappeared off our long range sensors – that they came to Atlantis under the guise of celebrating the win of a long war that had cost far too heavily on our side, and made their move.

Apparently the Ancients had created the Asurans in their early attempts at finding effective means of battling the wraith. Their concept had been an army of androids, safe from the life-sucking danger, and therefore letting the people stay safely protected while machines essentially fought the war. But the Ancients were too good, and their androids didn't care for the war, taking their spaceships and abandoning their creators to the wraith. Atlantis was moved to another world, and the location kept secret from their progeny, because at the heart of it, the Ancients no longer trusted the androids, though a treaty was brokered whereby the Ancients agreed to let the Asurans, as they called themselves, live in peace, while they continued to fight –unsuccessfully – against the wraith.

Sheppard looked at me over his fork. "So, when you stumbled into them and they found out you were from Atlantis, they decided it was time for the kids to move back home?"

I rolled my eyes and said drolly, "Yes, Sheppard, in simplistic terms. We were living in the city they viewed as theirs."

He nodded knowingly, looked around the mess hall and turned back to me. "Obviously, they lost."

"Because of Ronon," I admitted. I swiped some of the fluffy meringue and licked it off the fork. God, that was good. "That super blaster of his was the only weapon that killed them. Or, shall I say, made them 'cease functioning'."

"They didn't like that," guessed Sheppard.

Before I could reply, he looked over my head and his expression grew uneasy. I turned in my chair to see Teyla and Ronon walking our way, along with Radek and Elizabeth. I turned back to Sheppard and assured him, "They aren't going to hurt you, _Christ_, Sheppard – we want you here more than I will ever admit to saying. Relax."

He shook his head at me, and pushed the plate away, his pie only half finished. "It's not that," he muttered quickly. He leaned in close to keep it between us. "They were all dead in my reality. It's just…hard. Seeing everyone again."

I frowned at him. "What a depressing reality."

"It really was."

We locked eyes for a moment, and only pulled away when Elizabeth asked loudly behind me, "May we join you?" with forced cheerfulness. Even before she'd finished or I'd said the 'no' that was on the tip of my tongue, Ronon was dropping next to Sheppard and eyeing the left over pie.

"No, you can't have it," I stated irritably. If Sheppard wasn't finishing it, that was mine. It'd been the last slice of pumpkin. I looked at my half-eaten lemon and shoved it to Ronon, then pulled the pumpkin in front of me.

"Thanks," Ronon grinned.

"So," Elizabeth said. "I take it Rodney has explained entropic failure?"

"No, I haven't. I was getting to it."

Teyla shot me a cross look. "Rodney, there is much to plan. John deserves to be told, now."

Sheppard lifted his cup for more coffee when the mess hall clerk walked by, and murmured his thanks when she filled it full. "He was telling me about the Asurans, first."

"Yes, well, it really can be summed up by saying they weren't happy facing mortality, and in exchange for Ronon not using the blaster on any more of their _people_, they withdrew."

"It was only to get time to figure a way around it, though." Ronon jerked his head towards me. "McKay, Doctor Weir and…Colonel Sheppard, were captured while we were trying to keep them from taking over. Did some kind of mind probe."

I shuddered at the memory. "Yes, having a hand stuck through my forehead ranks up there with every bad experience I've ever had." It'd been painful enough that I'd screamed for them. The one that had probed my mind, Hadrus, he'd been completely unaffected by it, had even seemed annoyed at the noise I was causing while he stripped the layers to find anything useful he could find in hopes of defeating Lorne and the other personnel who had avoided being caught.

That's when he'd found the information on the Replicators we'd fought in our galaxy.

_Sheppard was kneeling in the center of the room, the domed ceiling so high overhead it disappeared into shadow. I had the weapon we'd come for clutched in my hand. "It's a bomb," he said, beginning to straighten from where he'd been kneeling near the boxy device, when the first eerie sounds of click-clack echoed around us._

_I turned, lighting the wall with the flash light in my hand, to see hundreds of the mechanical spider-like Replicators crawling down from the above darkness. "It's a trap," I breathed._

"The Asurans didn't know about the miniature drone like Replicators that had almost ruined the Asgard. At least, not until they found the memories in my mind." I'd studied them during my time at Area 51. Had theorized different weapons to defeat them, and in the end, it'd been the information O'Neill had gotten in his head from the Ancients' repository that had proved the salvation the Asgard needed. Still, it was only by the skin of our teeth that Earth had remained safe.

"So, in essence, they are guilty of doing what their creators did," Elizabeth said softly. "They created machines to fight their battles."

Sheppard was hiding his emotions well. He sipped his coffee and listened. And I still hadn't explained the real bad news, though I figured, he all ready got the gist of it. What he'd gone through in the infirmary had to make it obvious that it was bad news. Having your body convulse wasn't a good thing.

"And the weapon, you said I was the only one that can use it – will it defeat the Asurans as well as these Replicators?"

He asked the one question I didn't know. I knew a lot, hypothesized that which I didn't, and usually, my theories were better than other people's supposed facts, but in this, I hated to say.

"Maybe," I settled on. I sipped my now cold coffee and made a face. "It doesn't matter anyway."

Teyla interjected, "Because we must send you to another reality. There will be no one to use the weapon."

I'd explained the basics to her and Ronon before we'd embarked on the mirror mission. She'd wanted to know why we couldn't rescue everyone, had argued logically that we could always use more people, even though she'd admitted having copies of individuals would've been, in her words, _disconcerting_.

"This entropic failure…what's causing it?" Sheppard asked.

"_Can you rig this thing with a delay?"_

_I stared at the Ancients' bomb, then back to Sheppard. We were surrounded by Replicators; they were just waiting, not moving beyond the five meter diameter they'd given us. Teyla and Ronon had remained above, just outside the door that led into the building, and a quick radio report had clarified that we were the only victims caught in the Asurans' snare. They'd known we'd come looking for the weapon. We'd walked in with as much gullibility as a trained animal sitting for a treat._

"_I think so," I said. At his raised eyebrow I got even more flustered. "It's hard to think with those _things_ surrounding us – when I say 'think' I mean 'yes, of course I can, because I am a genius'!"_

I should've known they wouldn't have let him die in that explosion. I shouldn't have left his side.

"Temporal Entropic Cascade failure is caused by two of the same individual's residing in one reality," I said flatly. "Incredibly painful and always fatal."

Then I stood and left, _not running_, to somewhere private.

OoO

I'd heard Sheppard had collapsed sometime in the early morning hours. This time the episode lasted two minutes, and left him unconscious. Two episodes, ten hours apart. I was sitting in front of the mirror, the remote clenched in my fist. When I'd gotten control of my emotions, I'd gone to Elizabeth's office, found out that Ronon and Teyla were babysitting Sheppard, and had her call Lorne in for a meeting.

We needed to send him away and the sooner the better. She'd agreed. Lorne hadn't. He mentioned that maybe we should consider first taking a side trip to the Asurans, rescue our Sheppard and decimate them so that they wouldn't threaten anyone else again; not us, our allies, or _anyone_.

I'd punched him then, for continuing to think of this Sheppard as merely a commodity.

He'd punched me back, and now my fat lip only served to remind me he was right, at least a little. I wasn't any better than Lorne. I'd packaged my reasons in noble rationale, but in the end, I'd wanted to replace Sheppard because I didn't want to face a life on Atlantis without him. I'd thought my Sheppard was _dead_, and so I'd told Elizabeth we needed an alternate reality version to power the weapon -- to save us against the Asurans, and the Replicators they'd surely send to conquer us -- but all I'd really cared about was seeing that rugged face again, hearing his voice, having that companionship. Destroying the bastards that had taken him from me in the first place had just been a bonus.

"Rodney."

"Go away, Elizabeth."

She sat next to me.

Did no one listen?

"This isn't your fault."

I slid an incredulous look at her. "It's completely my fault. I never should've left him back on that planet. None of this would've happened."

She nodded slowly, folding her hands in her lap. "You're right," she admitted.

"Oh, thank you. You came down here to agree with my self-flagellation. How kind."

"Let me finish. None of this would've happened because you would be with John, on Asura, just as much a prisoner as he is, and Atlantis would've fallen."

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I could've done something that'd kept us from being captured, or maybe I could've gotten us free. Either way, did it matter? "Have you thought about what they've been doing to him for the past month?" It was what had kept me from catching even a few hours of sleep last night. Instead, I'd sat in front of the mirror and remembered those words the one alternate reality Sheppard had said.

"_Did I ever tell you how I felt before I died?"_

She nodded soberly. "Yes, I have."

I didn't have anything left to say – what else was there? We were both remembering the time we'd spent as prisoners of the Asurans here in Atlantis. Two very unpleasant days, during which it'd been made clear to us that the only reason why we were allowed to live was because of the personnel still running loose in the city and the need they had to find out what our minds could tell them.

But why keep Sheppard alive, a prisoner for that long, without contacting us? What were they doing to him?

"He wants to go," she finally said, cracking the silence that had fallen over us.

I smiled briefly, and opened my hand, showing the control. "No time like the present," I joked. "Time is life."

Elizabeth took my hand in hers, and folded my fingers back around the device. When I looked up at her face, she shook her head gently. "No, Rodney, you misunderstand me. He wants to go to Asura, to rescue John, and save us."

I searched her eyes. Hope, pain. "You can't let him do that."

She withdrew her hand from mine and stood up. Looking down at me, she said, "That's not our right. Talk to him." Then she left me alone, left me with my mirror and all the self recriminations I could continue to run through my mind, as I tried to fight the desire to let him help while at the same time, wanting nothing more than to send him through the mirror before he died or suffered another minute.

Dropping my head onto my hands, I swore. This was all my fault.

OoO

I left the mirror room not long after she'd left, and headed for the infirmary. I had every intention of talking Sheppard out of this stupid idea. It was suicide; he needed to accept that if he didn't go through the mirror now, sooner rather than later, he'd be seeing the bright light at the end of the tunnel…_again_. Then again, had he seen it the first time? I really should ask what he'd seen, because death was probably not far off for any of us.

"So," I said by way of greeting. "You've stopped foaming at the mouth."

"I guess I got my rabies shot."

The infirmary was mostly empty. Ronon was leaning against a nearby bed; Teyla was sitting in a chair next to Sheppard. I could hear Carson talking with Elizabeth in his office.

"Yes, well, I always did say that you were going to catch something."

Everyone looked at me and I waved irritably. "Yes, yes, bad joke, I know." I snapped my fingers and said, "How about 'what did the mommy wraith say to the baby wraith'?"

Teyla exchanged a look with Ronon, but Sheppard fought down a smirk. I looked eagerly at them, "No one's going to guess?"

"Give it to us, Rodney," Sheppard drawled.

I grinned. "No dessert until you finish your human."

Ronon threw a pillow at me, Sheppard groaned and…aha…Teyla's mouth twitched! "Please, it's slapstick! It's supposed to be bad," I defended.

"Ha ha, I'm going into temporal convulsions," cracked Sheppard.

"See this is why I never told you…_him_…jokes. If it doesn't have a blonde and a beer, it's no good."

He shook his head, beginning to grimace, and Teyla straightened abruptly as Sheppard said through gritted teeth, "No, really Rodney, I'm --"

Then his body arched against the gurney and I was shouting, "Carson! Get in here!"

There wasn't anything medical to do other than support him through the pain, but seeing his body writhing on the bed made me want to do _something_. This was awful. Like kneeling by the bomb, rigging it to explode, knowing we probably wouldn't make it, awful, and then staring at the smoke filled sky, and realizing that when I lost, I lost _big_.

It didn't matter that he was still alive. What mattered was that I'd left him.

Teyla and Ronon held Sheppard's legs, I had his right shoulder while Carson took his left. Elizabeth worried at his feet and we rode through it. At the end, I think I was sweating as much as Sheppard was. God, this _sucked_.

He was unconscious again. Teyla excused herself, to go get ready for the mission, but seeing how we hadn't even planned the mission, I'm not sure who she thought she was fooling. Ronon cast a sick look at Sheppard and said, "Me, too." They made their escape, promising to be back later.

"He's not going to back down," I said to myself, staring at his slack features, open and vulnerable in his quiet condition.

Elizabeth inhaled raggedly. "No. We need to do this, soon, or there won't be time to get him back and through that mirror."

"Aye, he's weakening, Rodney. But I fail to see how you plan to infiltrate the shield? As much as I would like for the happy ending for both Sheppards, I don't see how it's possible." Carson pulled the blood pressure cuff from Sheppard's arm and put it back on the trolley. He brushed the strands of hair away from Sheppard's eyes almost without thought, and then turned to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. "They know we've got the weapon."

"But they don't know we've got another Sheppard." I snapped my fingers, the plan all ready forming. "I need to see Lorne."

OoO

The plan was, "We surrender."

I'd gotten Lorne, and once Sheppard had woken, we'd huddled in the infirmary, putting our collective heads together. We'd gone over all the possible ways we could get through their shield. In the end, only one viable option was on the table.

Still, Elizabeth's open-mouth surprise from where she sat across from me, at the apex of the briefing room table, made me squirm a little in the padded chair.

Her eyes cut from me to Sheppard -- who was looking a little shaky -- and then to Lorne, who was sitting to my right. As far as Carson figured, he had about five hours before the next convulsion would hit. The first three had followed an increasing exponential curve that had allowed Radek to plot when the next episodes would likely strike. Using the inflection point, we also had a good idea of how much longer he had to live.

I smiled smugly and reminded her, "Occam's razor." The chair was cool against my back. Every moment we spent here, was a moment we were losing, but I realized that running over her concerns would only lengthen the process. "We offer a conditional surrender then ask if we can come to an agreement on terms. We take a Jumper over. I've got a device that can hide Sheppard's life signs. It was never practical to use on missions because of the limited capability, but here it's perfect. As soon as we go in the building, he uses the weapon, and once they start dropping like flies, we search for the colonel." Really, sometimes the simplest plan is the best plan. A lot less to go wrong.

Although, that also meant that if even one thing _did_ go wrong, it was pretty much 'oh my god we're screwed' kind of deal. Nothing like going up to the table with a double or nothing bet, and praying the deck wasn't stacked in the dealer's favor.

"Look," Sheppard said, leaning forward on the table, all of us noticing the tremble in his hand, "I'm running out of time here. One thing that's the same in both our realities is that I know my job. You trust him, trust _me_."

"What if they want to do it next week?" she asked, raising her eyebrow in a 'what then' expression.

"Then you tell them you'll be busy next week."

I snorted into my hand.

"Rodney," she admonished.

Lorne inclined his head towards Sheppard and said, "He's right, Ma'am. We don't have the luxury of taking no for an answer."

She stared at us, shaking her head. "This is insanity."

I shrugged. "Wasn't it Moliere who said, _the greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it_?" Really, did it matter if we died now or a week from now. "Elizabeth, this weapon is the only _real_ chance we have, and Sheppard isn't going to live till next week, and the other Sheppard, he's a little inaccessible right now."

"If this doesn't work --"

"Then we died trying."

I held her gaze until she nodded. "All right. Before I try to contact them, is everybody ready? I'll ask for an hour from now, will that work?"

She asked all of us, but centered on Sheppard. "I can do this," he promised.

She stood and pushed back her chair, closing the notepad she'd brought. "Then, gentlemen, I suggest you do whatever it is you have to do."

OoO

We left the briefing room and Lorne offered to bring Teyla and Ronon up to date on what was happening. The gate was dialing Asura, and I'd just as soon not listen in. This was crazy, all of it, and I'm not normally inclined to bravado and sacrifice, but I was also not going to walk away from what needed to be done.

"So, how long have you been fighting these guys?"

Sheppard followed me to my quarters. I was exhausted, but I wouldn't rest until this was over. I had a supply of stimulants for when life got desperate and busy, like now. "A year and a half."

"And what about your allies, the Genii?"

I stopped at my door and swiped my palm over the panel, pausing only long enough for it to open. I aimed for my desk, he aimed for my bed.

"Licking their wounds," I explained. I dropped in the chair and pulled open the drawer, searching for the bottle. "It was about six months ago when you…he, _we_…earned that medal. See." I pulled mine out of the drawer along with the bottle of stimulants, tossed the medal to him, and popped the cap, shaking two into my palm. I re-capped the bottle and tossed it back in the drawer, and while he studied the medal, I went to the bathroom for some water. When I came back, he was leaning against the wall, the medal on the blanket next to him.

"Anyway, as I was saying – they tried to get to us through the Genii, and we were contacted to help. You saved Commander Kolya and his entire team after they'd been captured."

"You mean _we_ saved them?" His eyes crossed for a moment and he amended, "You and your Sheppard."

"And Ronon and Teyla."

A knock on my door interrupted me from explaining further about that mission, not that I really cared to relive it. Before I'd even called 'come in', Carson rushed in, focusing on me then sliding till he found Sheppard. "There you are, lad, did you not hear me say to come straight back after the briefing?"

"I'm fine," Sheppard said, nonchalant.

"For someone dying from entropic cascade failure," I deadpanned.

The pillow that smacked me in the face was a complete surprise. "Which one of you did that?" I demanded. Those stimulants seriously needed to kick in – if I hadn't been staring into space, I would've seen it coming. As it was, though, I only managed to slide a little further down in the chair.

"Shut up, Rodney, and close your eyes. You look like you're about to become part of the furniture." Carson glared at me, then turned it on Sheppard. "I suppose I can check you here. Any new symptoms?"

I must've taken Carson's advice, because their talking droned together and I stayed slumped for a few minutes, long enough I hoped for the stims to finally kick in, and then Carson was patting me on the shoulder and muttering, "Good luck," and leaving.

"You know what's bothering me," I mumbled, still not rocketed into hyperactivity.

Sheppard looked sideways at me. "What?"

"You – how you're taking this whole alternate reality thing, and insisting on using the weapon instead of going through the mirror now – I really thought you would've shot me for kidnapping your dying body and bringing it here."

He shucked his body lower, resting more on the pillows. "If I'd shot you, would that have made you feel better?"

I rolled my own head against the back of the chair. "No," I admitted. I kind of slid a lazy look at him. I think I needed more stimulants. "It just would've killed me."

Sheppard chuckled. "I think Beckett's tampered with your stash of drugs."

"Why'd he do that?" I slurred, even as my sluggish mind finally realized that not only was Sheppard right, but I was so far from functionally awake that they'd have to dump my body into the Jumper when it was time to go.

"Probably because you, like my Rodney, refuse to rest even when you should."

Made sense. I lifted a clumsy finger and pointed at his hair. "Universal constants – your hair and my insomnia."

Sheppard was suddenly next to me, pulling me to my feet and dragging me to the bed. His arms trembled around my waist and I felt boneless, drooping in the spot where he dropped me. Then I felt the bed dip when he sat. "I'd like to think there were more constants than my hair and your insomnia," he murmured.

The meaning was lost to me as I couldn't hold off the drowsy, drugged sleep any longer.

OoO

We walked together to the Jumper, the seven of us, and I kind of thought it felt like I was in _The Right Stuff_ – I was Ed Harris, or maybe Sam Shepard, no, Ed Harris…had to consider the hair situation, after all.

We were walking towards history, we were walking towards fate – and just maybe, we were walking to our deaths.

Carson had fessed up to swapping my stimulants when he showed up an hour later and pumped me full of the real deal. I'd warned him the next time he went with us on an overnight mission, he'd better wear Depends to bed or his sleeping bag would be in need of a washing. Warm water and his hand had an appointment.

Elizabeth had gotten the Asurans to agree to a meeting and all they'd said was 'call when you're ready'. I knew they wanted Atlantis, but I also knew they were far from stupid. Either they knew what was coming and had a plan to prevent it, or…they knew what was coming and had a plan to prevent it.

I paused by Ronon and asked sotto-voice, "Your super gun is fully charged, right?"

He pulled it from his holster and flipped it around to show me the charge indicator. I jerked my head appreciatively and murmured, "Good. Very good."

Lorne slid into the pilot's seat, and I let the Marine from his team take the co-pilot's chair. Carson had strongly suggested Sheppard not fly because of the temporal convulsions and the off chance that the next bout would strike early. Radek had theorized there might be some interaction with the mental components of the ATA tech but I'd told him that was ludicrous. It wasn't like the Jumper would suddenly warp and convulse just because Sheppard did.

Elizabeth had stood firm and in a show of solidarity, I remained in the rear with him. Ronon and Teyla sat in the two rear seats behind Lorne and what's his name. Elizabeth sat beside Sheppard and I sat across from both of them. It was only going to be a five minute trip and before we went through the gate, Sheppard would need to put on the scrambler.

I'd named it. Scrambler. It scrambled the sensors ability to register your life signs. Really quite clever. Much better than 'Gate Jumper'. Sheppard and his ridiculous need to name things over anyone else.

And thinking about my Sheppard, I looked at this Sheppard, thinking just how much he looked like crap. "Are you sure you can do this?"

We had a souped-up medical kit, with drugs Carson pre-measured to help correct the imbalances in his body chemistry that Carson had recorded after Sheppard's first use of the weapon, but the convulsions he'd had had exacted a toll that showed on his face, dark circles under his eyes, sunken cheeks.

A cocky grin and Sheppard asked, "Are you sure you can? You guys are going to be the ones walking into the lion's den."

"Yes, don't remind me."

Ronon peered through the cockpit doors. "Put the scrambler on, we're going."

Sheppard pulled it out of his pocket, stared for a minute, and then stuck it to his chest. He'd have to take it off right before he activated the weapon, but at that point, his life signs registering wouldn't matter. Radek and I had argued, yet again, on the ability to use it with or without the scrambling device, but ultimately, I won. And I knew I was right. The jamming properties would interfere with the weapons' ability to spread. We had an entire city of Asurans to render inert.

Elizabeth leaned forward to call to Lorne, "We're ready, Major."

Lorne held a 'thumbs up' and the ship lifted smoothly from its berth, glided forward, and then dropped through the bay doors. The gate was all ready dialed and waiting, and a moment later, Grodin's voice filtered through. "Our request has been received, permission granted to gate through."

Elizabeth tapped her earpiece. "Send the MALP through, Peter."

We weren't stupid. The thought that they'd just leave their shield up and we'd go splat had occurred to us. Of course, there was always the risk that they'd anticipate us sending a test object first and then going through, in which case the shield would be raised after the MALP and we'd still go splat…

"Rodney?"

"Yes, what?"

Elizabeth smiled knowingly. "You're over thinking again. The MALP shows triple moons in a bright sunny sky. In short, here we go."

I met Sheppard's eyes and he nodded.

Inhaling deeply, I braced my sweaty palms on my pants. "Here we go…"

The trip really was fast. From the gate to the landing pad within the city center, was five minutes. Five heart stopping minutes. Then Sheppard was sharing a final look with me before he crouched and tucked himself under the bench. We had to get out of here and hope they didn't ask to search the ship. Lorne and the Marine…what was his name? Bob, Barry…Bates…that's what it was, Bates -- joined us as the hatch finally touched down and together we made a sea of bodies the Asurans would have a hard time seeing through.

After we walked forward, Teyla activated the hatch, and I tried not to hyperventilate when I saw that Hadrus was in the welcoming committee. He'd really seemed to enjoy spending time in my head, which meant, he was mostly likely a neurotic android with no qualms about harming the little humans that they completely did _not_ serve.

His knowing smile when he saw me staring at him made me instantly go to places that involved cells and Sheppard and torture.

Thirty minutes. That's all I had to do. Make it through the next thirty minutes. Sheppard was going to wait that long before deploying the weapon, in the hopes that we could get them to possibly show -- or tell us-- where _our_ Sheppard was being kept.

Oberoth stepped forward and assessed us, his eyes raking over our weapons. "Leave them, and follow me," he ordered, before turning, and heading back to the doors nearest the landing pad.

We'd been here once before; the first time when we'd made the monumental mistake of ever trying to be friends. That's us. We make monumental mistakes on a weekly basis. This week belonged all to me.

Last week, that was Lorne, and some day, I'll find the time to actually reference the report about the events on MX9-XX2.

Carson pushed me forward and I stepped rather quickly around Hadrus after tossing my pistol into the pile that was growing a lot bigger as Ronon grudgingly added his blaster…not the _blaster, _we needed that! Then some knives…and wow, some more knives, until I was following Elizabeth in the dejected line of our people. They walked us into their center pier that, of course, looked just like ours, because they had the need to build their city in Atlantis' image – the same décor; the same flowing lines, tempered metal, burnished bronze and subdued silvers. The briefing room was only slightly different. Larger, with one table instead of a split V. Oberoth gestured at us to sit, but I'd imagine I'd rather sleep with snakes then sit –

"Rodney, let's not offend our hosts," Elizabeth scolded.

'Oh, right," I stated acerbically. "Because they're Miss Manners themselves. Tell me," I stared at Oberoth, "where is he? Because personally, we're not giving anything up until you bring him to us."

Because I was sneaking another glance to make sure Hadrus was keeping his distance, I saw Carson blanch and Elizabeth's face twist into something like 'what the hell are you doing,' but hello, thirty minutes! We needed to find out where the colonel was being kept or we might just wind up in an ill conceived desperate search among a city full of inert bodies trying to find him before he starves, and for that matter, what if they weren't even keeping him on this planet?

"He is alive, Doctor McKay." Oberoth moved to an Asuran standing near and whispered in his ear. When he straightened, he asked me, "Do you wish to go to him?"

Did I wish to go to him? "Of course I 'wish to go to him!'"

"Rodney!"

Elizabeth stepped towards me, then all around us, Asurans pulled weapons and pointed them at us. Like we didn't see this coming. I gave Elizabeth a reassuring look, because really, this happened all the time, and at least _this_ time, we had our rescue hiding under the bench in the Jumper and, oh, look at the time – twenty minutes to go. Really, it was far simpler for them to just toss us in the cell with the colonel, and that way we could have him with us when things changed…but then again, woah, wait…flaw in the plan…if we were locked in the cell, who was going to let us out?

"Uh, you see," I lifted my 'wait a minute' finger. "That wasn't what I had in mind. Can you stop with the evil bad guy routine and do something outside the box? Like returning our very-missed person and 'no harm, no foul?'"

An influx of new _androids _rushed forward, grabbing us roughly, and as we were shoved towards the door, Lorne muttered sotto-voice, "Nice going, McKay. Way to make friends on the playground."

Because I couldn't make my mind up whether to respond with an insult or a defense, the opportunity was lost when Lorne was pulled too far ahead, and Hadrus sidled up alongside me. He gave me an enigmatic smile. "I've been having some deep conversations with Colonel Sheppard."

Asshole. I hated this guy. He was baiting me and we hadn't even been locked up yet. "Really? About what? Football?" I tsk'ed. "I'm afraid we had to agree to disagree on which was better – hockey really is the manly sport." I snapped my fingers as my guard shoved me harder. "Oh, wait…" I exaggerated a light bulb moment. "I bet he's been arguing blonde or brunette with you."

"No." Hadrus smiled pleasantly. "More along the lines of 'why did your team so easily abandon you'."

Fifteen minutes.

Bastard.

I inhaled sharply.

The transporter took us to the door that led to the cells. Déjà vu…it looked exactly the same as our cells in Atlantis, and I shuddered; these people really had a mommy dearest complex. For a race of robots that supposedly hated their creators by the time they parted ways, they sure did keep everything 'just like home.'

When I was pushed alongside the others, lined up to be put in the cells, I saw _him_. Slumped in the corner -- there wasn't a bed or a chair, or even a blanket. He wasn't wearing his uniform, instead, it was an Asuran outfit. On the outside, he looked perfectly normal. There wasn't a bruise on him, but the unconsciousness…well, we all knew how the Asurans liked to play. They got in your head, your mind, and they made you relive memories, twisting reality to remake events. They could turn Christmas morning when you were ten into a horror movie.

The force field collapsed, and Hadrus nodded for the guard to open the cell. When he did, we were prodded forward.

Ten minutes.

As soon as we were in, the extra Asurans left, the force field returned, and I, along with everyone, hovered over Sheppard. _Our Sheppard_.

He didn't look any different. His hair, his face, he didn't even look thinner, so they must've been feeding him. But I couldn't help from knowing things _were_ changed -- the things inside. The psyche. Because you didn't spend a month as the Asurans toy and not show something for it. We'd spent days that first time and had walked around like the hollow men afterwards.

After a few tense moments, Carson looked away from Sheppard and smiled tightly. "He's alive. Physically, he seems fine, but I won't know more until he wakes."

Ronon growled, and turned to punch the corner beam, and just as I tried to warn, "Force f --" his arm was flung back with a _snap-crackle_, and he was shaking his arm to try and get rid of the discomfort from being zapped. "—ield," I finished, just on principle.

I looked at my watch. Five min—

The door opening made me turn, like everyone else, and the unpleasant surprise of seeing the other Sheppard held tight between two guards, one at least had a bloody lip and a very pissed off look, made me utter, "We are _so_ screwed."

Lorne snorted. "When aren't we?"

Oberoth arrived right after and watched while the guards added one more to our crowded cell, staring at the two identical men and remaining unruffled on the surface. "This is unexpected," he admitted coolly. "But, really, Doctor Weir, did you truly believe we wouldn't examine your ship for any surprises?"

She stayed a lot calmer than I felt, tilted her head as if Oberoth had just scored a checkmate, and really, I suppose in a way he did, if he had searched Sheppard and found the weapon. "We had to try."

"I suppose you did," Oberoth conceded with stilted politeness. "While my colleagues and I discuss how long we will let you live, please, accept my hospitality." He inclined his head in a slight bow, and left.

"Well, this is fantastic," I groaned, throwing my hands in the air. "At least we're all together when we die. I don't suppose they left you your…important…things." I slid my eyes uneasily at the guards, knowing we were being observed, and not just from the two Asurans standing straight at the door, but from the cameras up in the corner.

Sheppard, the one that was looking more haggard that I could stand to see, walked over to me, smiling…_sadly_?

At the same time, Ronon and Teyla, along with Lorne, moved to the front of the cell, blocking us from the guard's sight, and as Lorne passed Sheppard, they bumped in a casual accident and I saw the weapon transferred to Sheppard's hand. _What_? I looked from his hand to his face and he said, "Did you really think nothing would go wrong?"

What they'd done – the gamble they'd taken… "Are you insane?" I demanded.

He slung a friendly arm over my shoulder, and turned us towards Elizabeth, Carson, and the other Sheppard…_my_ Sheppard… "If they hadn't found me, I would've made sure they did. Either way, they didn't suspect anything with Lorne, and they didn't search him, did they? They expected what they got, and didn't look where it mattered."

Before I could truly appreciate the military back stab they'd orchestrated so simply against the Asurans, he was clasping the weapon, holding it tight in his palm, and as the white light began to spread, there were shouts coming from the guards. I heard the force field hiss as it was deactivated and watched as the guards tried to get past the three immovable objects to give them access to Sheppard, but Ronon, Teyla and Lorne weren't giving an inch, fighting with everything they had to keep them away, to give Sheppard time…_he_ had stepped away from me, more centered in the room.

The white corona spread, the beads dancing just above his skin. He _glowed_. Luminescent…Ronon was thrown aside and when a guard went to grab Sheppard his arm touched into the white aura. The Asuran guard just…dropped. Like a stone. One moment, he was moving, and the next, he was down. The other guard stepped back, the white crept towards his feet, and by the time he thought to move away, it was too late.

We stared, transfixed, and then Oberoth, Hadrus…all the members of the council were back, hovering at the door into the room. I watched with satisfaction as they stared in horror at what was happening, but Oberoth merely glared, and pulled back to leave.

I was standing near enough that Sheppard reached out with his other hand, grabbed me on the arm. The weapon's effect was spreading, slowly, too slow…they could get people out of the city and I could all ready see the terrible price it was exacting from Sheppard. His skin paled, thinned -- it was like staring at the sun through a sheet of paper. For the first time, I thought the weapon might drain someone until there wasn't anything left, and I shouted, "Something's wrong…Sheppard! You've got to _stop_!"

His hand convulsed on my arm and he whispered, "Goodbye."

"_No_," I think I shouted. I know I thought it. I stepped closer, to take the weapon from his hand, forcibly if I had to, but my hand went through him and he wasn't holding me anymore. White light flared so bright I had to look away, the room flashed, and a surge of white energy exploded outward, like a massively expanding sphere, screaming in all directions -- a bubble of devastation for the Asurans.

I stumbled back, until the bars of the cell stopped me, and held me up. I think at some point I slid down, and closed my eyes…I didn't know. I swear to God, I didn't know the weapon would cost him that. But with a sickening sense of hindsight, I realized the signs had been there. The altered body chemistry, the aura, the explosion of energy that took out the much smaller Replicators. It just hadn't needed as much last time. It wasn't meant to be reusable…Oh, God. It wasn't supposed to _do_ that.

"You stupid sorry son of a bitches!" I shouted at the ceiling. "You couldn't invent a better weapon than _that_?"

I don't know how long it took, because when the light faded, and everything was dark, _everything_ was dark. The lights were out, my watch was dead…it was like the city had been struck by a massive EMP blast and then with a 'no shit' moment, I realized, that was probably pretty close to what had happened.

Sheppard, _my_ Sheppard, he was still unconscious, and I could see Ronon and Lorne were down, still trying to recover from the physical toll of keeping the guards at bay. The Asurans were stronger than us, I mean, way stronger.

Carson tried to check on everyone. Teyla was at least on her feet compared to the others. He stopped in front of me and I waved him off, not even able to process what'd happened.

Eventually, we were all standing. Ronon cradled Sheppard in his arms and we stepped from the cell, around the downed guards. I felt just as battle scarred as if we'd spent days under Siege again.

It's funny. The Asuran threat had been hanging over our heads for so long, and in the end, it was ridiculously easy to defeat them. We walked through halls littered with their bodies just _lying_ there, not a visible mark on any of them.

Maybe some had gotten away, if they'd had the foresight to believe they could be taken down, and hadn't been as wholly arrogant as what I believed them to be. We'd done something that had rendered them inert.

_Dead. _

Inert sounded more clinical and less permanent. Could a machine die? Was it genocide to kill them all?

We didn't linger in the city, didn't bother looking for technology, or answers, instead, we walked to our ship. The Daedalus would be sent to nuke it, so that no one could come behind and take over and maybe even revive them. We had no idea just how permanent the weapon was, but I knew at the cost it took, we wouldn't have another chance, even if we could locate another one.

Lorne took the controls; Elizabeth sat in front by him, moving woodenly, just as we all were doing. The rest of us, we hovered over Sheppard in the back. Ronon had laid him gently on the bench, Teyla pillowed his head in her lap, and I just stared. That face…the cost. One Sheppard for another – and as much as I hated myself for it, I was pathetically thankful that _this_ one was here.

And yet, I felt sick because the other one _wasn't_.

One of my physics professors had had a thing for quotes. He'd put them on our tests, quizzes, and lab books. Some of them I disagreed with, some were important, and some…some I just hadn't understood, because at the basis of every paradigm you view things from a cornerstone of your own experiences, and I didn't have any experience to prove to me the statement had validity. But now, one in particular, made me wish I could meet the one who'd said it.

_No one should approach the temple of science with the soul of a money changer._

Thomas Browne had said that, and at the time, I'd thought it was something a lot less than profound, but now…now I stared at the colonel and felt the stain of the price for a life, even if that life meant more to me than I'd been able to admit.

Science had created that weapon, the mirror, the Asurans – and science had saved us at a heavy price.

A low, terrible moan came from Sheppard. His legs shifted and I watched transfixed as he lifted a hand and placed it shakily against his head, blinking himself into consciousness. He rolled his head just a little, staring at us in confusion.

"McKay?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

I wanted to say something witty, profound…important, but all I managed to say was a slightly accusatory, "You said you'd follow me."

OoO

I should be in my lab. Or in the infirmary. Yes, forget my lab, I definitely should be in the infirmary. As a semi-patient, because, really, the events of the last two days…I didn't feel normal. I mean, I felt so far from normal that I wasn't sure whether to be giddy, depressed or horrified.

And yet, I wasn't in my lab, or the infirmary, hell, I wasn't even in the mess hall.

I was sitting cross-legged in front of the mirror, the control cold and small in my hand, scrolling through realities.

Oh, sure, it was probably stupid, risky, dangerous…a hundred things wrong with it, not least of all, that it was definitely neurotic, but I was doing it anyway. I had a pistol in my lap and my radio was on in case anything was waiting to leap through when I just happened to dial up their reality. I didn't really pause long, I was just looking. Seeing who was on the other side.

Besides, I hadn't gone here _right_ after we got back. I'd collapsed in a bed in the infirmary next to where Carson had put Sheppard.

He was a mess, all the while insisting he was _fine_. Well, no, that wasn't exactly true. He hadn't said, "I'm fine," but rather, "I'll be fine." For Sheppard, the line between the two was blurred, but for me, like everything else, the difference was more concrete.

Anyway, who knows how long I slept for, because my watch was still _dead_. I'd have to fix it eventually.

I'd checked with Carson after I'd woken up, about Sheppard, and I was told he was sleeping. Sheppard was having a lot of nightmares until Carson had finally knocked him out with drugs. It wasn't a permanent solution and what would be, I had no idea – like I said, we needed a psychologist because the human mind wasn't my specialty, or anyone else left on Atlantis. Maybe they'd send us one now. Maybe not. Maybe we'd just have to bounce off each other until we put this behind us.

Another reality… Radek peered curiously at me. Woah. I clicked past that, and this time the room was empty. Another click. I could make out the backs of people I didn't recognize. The uniforms weren't even familiar. I clicked again.

I heard the door slide open. I figured it was Elizabeth, maybe Teyla, probably not Ronon, but when I saw it was Sheppard I almost lurched to my feet. "He let you out!" I demanded.

Really, on the surface, he looked better than I did. I had barely slept in days, and he'd spent a lot of time cooped up in his mind. They'd fed him, he'd slept, and the mental torture the Asurans had specialized in just didn't leave outwards signs…except his eyes. I could see _something_ in his eyes.

"Yes, he 'let me out.'" Sheppard made a face. "It's not like I've got a sucking chest wound, Rodney."

"What if you…you know."

He narrowed his eyes at me, his hair hanging over his eyes, just like the other Sheppard's had…he needed a hair cut. "No," he enunciated slowly. "I don't know."

I chickened out and looked away from him and back to the mirror as I muttered, "Suffer traumatic shock, flashbacks, go crazy and attack me."

The soft clump of his boots signaled his movement, and then he was dropping to the ground next to me, tucking his legs up under him. His shoulder was so close it touched mine if he breathed deep. "Sometimes, I think I'm still there."

I looked over at him. "Really?" I only said that because I was surprised he had admitted it.

"Really," he repeated. He dropped his gaze to the device in my hand and then looked at the mirror. "So, Elizabeth told me you might be here." Sheppard contemplated the empty room on the other side of the mirror before raising an eyebrow at me. "This behavior's a little worrisome, even for you."

Nodding slightly I agreed. "Disturbing, I know." Yet, I clicked again, and the image shifted. This time we stared at an almost perfect reflection of ourselves, looking at us looking at them, and who knows who was more startled, but I stared at Sheppard then back to the mirror, before waving awkwardly and clicking forward again. This time it was another empty room and I felt my heart thump a little too fast as I gathered the shreds of courage.

"We need…"

He took the device from my hand and turned the mirror off. "To talk."

Yeah. That. I closed my eyes, pictured a deep blue sky, obscured by trails of smoke.

"_Did I ever tell you how I felt before I died?"_

"_I guess some things never do work out."_

"Maybe we should go somewhere that has coffee," I suggested, with a weak grin. "An addiction a day, I always say."

Because maybe, some times, things would work out. I took his proffered hand and stood, holding onto the pistol with my free hand, and meeting his searching look. Maybe you never knew until you tried, and maybe second chances weren't meant to be thrown away.

_Maybe._

(This was me, after all.)

**The ****End**

**Warnings: AU**. This is a quantum mirror story, where the reality is not the reality of **canon** SGA. **There is a character death of an alternate reality main character**.


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